


Found You

by Andi2015, xTater



Series: Western Deviancy [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Connor Dechart, Deputy! Gavin Reed, F/M, Fluff, Jericho (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Markus Carlson, Outlaw!Markus, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Romance, Sheriff! Hank Anderson, Shootouts, Simon Daniels, Some light smut, US Marshal!Connor, Virgin Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Western-period violence, Yeehaw! AU, Yeehaw!Detroit: Become Human, shameless self-insert, slow burn?, some violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-01-04 09:23:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18340805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andi2015/pseuds/Andi2015, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xTater/pseuds/xTater
Summary: Connor thought all he needed was to find those who committed crimes and bring them to justice. One gang that seems to slip his fingers, yet leave a trail warm enough to follow, was Jericho. He'd been tailing Jericho since the kidnapping of a powerful man's fiance. Finding himself on a hot trail to capturing Jericho in a town, he knew that he'd always accomplish his missions. That was until meeting Jen, the sheriff's daughter, that makes him wonder if accomplishing his mission is all he wanted.Markus had been the leader of Jericho since the first robbery of a train near Belle Isle. Now he's notorious and leaving the country trembling. One of the fastest shots in the west with a woman at his side and a dog on his trail that's determined to see him swing. Living on the edge is what Markus lived for, making sure freedom was at the top of his list right next to the woman with a soft smile and bright eyes that lure him in and think he's been saved by an angel.





	1. Chapter 1: Connor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xTater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xTater/gifts).



> So I've recently fallen down the Yeehaw!DBH AU rabbit hole with a friend, and this is spawned from it. So it's a shameless self-insert and I've no regrets. Also, don't mind the grammar errors, I know there are some. So, without further ado, enjoy. Lemme know what you think!

The sun beat down on the earth, bringing scorching around anything the light touched. Sweat beaded and dribbled down the side of his face. Using the heel of his palm, he wiped it away, taking note of the amount of moisture that collected in that one swipe. Sighing, he wiped it on his pants, looking out the window of the train as it moved through the scenery. It was just too hot around here as he made his way to Belle Isle Train Station, hoping that there was a chance that his lead wasn’t stale. 

One year he’d been chasing these outlaws that seem to grow in numbers by the day. They claim they are helping towns through the raiding and murders and total chaos that would ensue every time they stepped into a new town. Pushing his hair back from his forehead, he looked at the notes he had on the posse. Jericho has been around for an unknown amount of time, but gained more and more popularity and followers in the last few years. Their leader was charming and a smooth talker; not to mention he was among the fastest draw that most had ever seen. Sighing, he looked toward the notes about Belle Isle. The main proprietor was a businessman by the name of Elijah Kamski, who owned nearly three-quarters the businesses in Belle Isle including the most prosperous business of the saloon in the middle of the town.  He had been recently asked to become the mayor after the previous one retired and moved back east.

Glancing through the notes about Belle Isle more, he saw that Kamski was engaged to the daughter of a wealthy artist from Lafayette, who’d been living with him for nine months after she’d left finishing school. Feeling uneasy about meeting Elijah, Connor put his notes back into the journal he carried and looked back out the window. It was definitely a different landscape than the one he’d been used to back east. Things seemed slower and the law didn’t seem to touch the landscape or the people. But Jericho, the wanted posse, seemed to plague the west, making successful businessmen lose nearly everything, and making the women think there were no others like them.

The rocking of the train started to lull him into a daze as he watched the scenery speed by, mixing with the gray haze of the smoke of the train’s smokestack. Connor knew it wasn’t going to be long before the train stopped at Belle Isle, so a small nap wasn’t in the cards for him. Gathering the ambition to move in the heat, he retrieved his coin and started flicking it back and forth with his thumbs, twirling it between his fingers before flicking it back to the other hand, catching it between his fingers. 

This train ride seemed to take forever. 

\---

Belle Isle seemed to be a flourishing town that could rival small cities in the east. There was entertainment, saloons, a poker house, inns, boarding houses, and hotels. It surprised Connor there were restaurants that offered something other than the typical dinners he’d see. The main streets seemed to be paved in brick with a park residing near the saloon. It seemed weird that the name of the town was Belle Isle when it wasn’t an island at all. There was a river that ran close to it, and near a small port, but it wasn’t an island.

Connor made his way to the mayor’s office, straightening his hat that shaded him from the harsh sun that seemed to intensify the already humid air. He adjusted his jacket as his horse walked in the direction Connor needed him to go. It wasn’t hard to find city hall once he’d figured out where he was. City hall seemed to be a refurbished school with a couple stories and a courthouse. Stopping his horse, Connor walked in, removing his hat as soon as he crossed the threshold. He gazed at the man behind the desk, hoping he was in the right area to find who was perhaps the most powerful businessman in the area. 

“Good afternoon, sir,” he started, his voice even from the number of times he’s said this introduction everywhere he’d gone. “My name is Connor Dechart, I’m the US Marshall sent to investigate and apprehend outlaws. Is Elijah Kamski nearby?”

The man behind the desk gave Connor a quick scan before shrugging and returning to the papers he was looking at. “Ya looking for his house or where he is at currently.”

“I was given orders that he requested someone see him about what’s happened immediately.”

There was a scoff before he man shook his head. “Yeah, he’s here. He should be at his house. It’s down the road, off Coldridge. Biggest house on the block. Can’t miss it.”

Connor nodded once before turning back toward the door. “Thank you, sir,” he said as he opened the door. 

The man scoffed again. “Yeah, yeah, careful mentioning his ‘fiancee’, prick.”

Elijah Kamski lived in the largest house in Belle Isle. It was ivory, possibly from the dust, and the sun beating down on it. The path that lead to the front of the house was paved with pale white brick and a wrought iron fence surrounding his property. The fence and fence door were tall, keeping the world from seeing into his very private world.

Connor pushed passed the gate in the front on his way up to the door, hoping that the man at the courthouse was right in thinking that he was home. He straightened his back as he began to knock on the door. It soon opened with a man, smartly dressed, standing in the doorway. The presence of this man, who looked about Connor’s age, set Connor on edge. 

“Pardon the intrusion, sir, but are you Mr. Elijah Kamski?” Connor asked, knowing it was the best option to remain calm before demanding to see a man he had no idea what he looked like. 

“Depends, what do you need?” he asked, his voice soft yet firm. 

“My name is Connor Dechart. I am a US Marshall sent to investigate what happened here,” Connor said, keeping his hands at his side. The man seemed to relax just a touch.

“You must be the Marshal I sent for when Jericho invaded,” he said as he moved from the doorway to allow Connor inside the building. “Took you long enough. The trail is about cold now.”

“I understand your frustrations, Mr. Kamski,” Connor said smoothly as he stepped into the building, once again discarding his hat. “Could you tell me if you saw anything about Jericho when they rode into town?”

“I wasn’t out when they rode into town and created chaos,” Elijah said tightly. “I was here, with my fiance.”

Connor nodded, wondering where this fiancee was. “Did you come into any contact with them before or after they raided the town?”

“Yes, I ran into their so-called ‘leader’. He took my fiancee.” Elijah’s voice sounded calm but Connor could detect the hint of anger and frustration as he spoke; reminding him of a child who had their toy taken away.

“I apologise. What is your fiance’s name that was kidnapped?”

“Andrea,” Elijah said. “She’s my treasure. I want her returned to me.”

Connor nodded wondering why Kamski didn’t hire a Pinkerton to go and find her. They were more qualified. “Understood, sir. Is there a possibility you have everything, amounts of money included, that was taken when Jericho rode in?”

Elijah nodded. “Of course. It’s in my study. Right this way.”

Connor followed the man, wondering what was so special about this girl if it was possible that Elijah Kamski could have any woman he wanted. Letting out a silent breath, he walked into the office that Elijah had to unlock to get into. Elijah broke into Connor’s thoughts when it seemed Connor wasn’t paying attention, too lost in the wealth that Kamski showed off.

“Is there anything in particular you wanted to see aside from the leger, Mr. Dechart?” Elijah asked as he started getting out books and closing others.

“I apologize, Mr. Kamski, but that is confidential. I hope you understand, but just the ledger is fine for now.”

Connor looked around the room that had three walls that were lined with books, in one corner was a bust statue of some scholar Connor felt he needed to know the name of. There was a sofa in front of the fireplace on the same wall as the door. This particular room seemed to be separate from the rest of the house. As if there was some presence in the rest of the house that there wasn’t in this study off the main lobby of the house. 

Elijah stepped to Connor, a couple of books in his hand. “I believe these are the items you are looking for.” Connor turned to Elijah, taking the books into his hands. “Will there be anything else you need?”

“Yes,” Connor said, glancing to the books in his hands. “I will need to investigate your house.” Upon hearing that, Elijah seemed to stiffen, making Connor think he had something to hide. To ease him, he said, “I heard that a member or two of Jericho had been in this building, and I want to see if I can find something that will lead me to your fiance faster.”

Elijah remained stiff. “Of course. But only in areas she was allowed.”

Allowed? Connor tried not to furrow his eyebrows at the thought. 

“Do you have any help that would aid me in where she was allowed to go? I understand you are a busy man, Mr. Kamski.”

“No,” Elijah said immediately. He softened his tone just slightly. “She was alone in the house. Proper lady and fiance until the damned devil rode in.” He seemed to get lost in his thoughts a moment before giving his head a slight shake. “I'll leave you to your work, Mister…”

“Dechart,” Connor answered. “I shouldn't be long in here, Mr. Kamski.”

As Elijah left, Connor opened the first book, seeing numbers he wasn't interested in for businesses that meant nothing to him. What did pique his interest is the sudden difference in penmanship after a few pages, seeing a messy scroll become neat and controlled. 

She must've started working his books, Connor thought casually as he glanced to the dates this started happening and when it ended. He even took note of how the saloon was the only business that was tremendously hit when Jericho rode through, something that seemed off because they generally left the saloons alone and only took a few bottles of alcohol, leaving the money. 

Closing the finances journal, he opened the other book. It was leather bound and had pages of the same sort of penmanship as some of the journal. This kept records of who visited the house and why, but it ended the night Jericho rode into town. The only thing in that entry was a single, bloody fingerprint.

Connor furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at the entry from two weeks ago. Questions swirled in his mind, trying to deduce answers that would be logical. Resisting the urge to pocket the journal Connor was sure  belonged to Kamski's fiance, Connor set the books on the desk before walking out, closing the doors behind him.

Turning toward the rest of the house, Connor carefully made his way around, looking for anything that didn't seem right about what Kamski claimed. Everything seemed to be clean and in its order until a stain caught Connor's eye. It was when he had entered the tea room just off the kitchen near the back gardens. There was a dark colored stain near a table. It was hardly noticeable to someone who wasn’t looking for anything. To the untrained eye, it would have looked like a stain from someone spilling tea. Leaning closer, Connor knew it wasn’t tea. There was no tea that could make a lingering stain quite like that. Further examination led Connor to believe it was blood. 

What would cause someone to bleed like a stuck pig, Connor thought as he stood up to check the rest of the room, hoping for something more about this blood stain. He looked around the room, looking for something that would cause that much blood, or perhaps a maid or servant that knew Kamski’s fiance. Glancing around the room, he took it in, picturing a young woman bored out of her mind with nothing to do. Nothing that stimulated her. He knew enough of this fiance that being engaged wasn’t what she wanted from life. The daughter of a wealthy artist must’ve lived a much freer life than that of the ladies she knew in finishing school. 

Connor knew his hunch had to be something as he neared the door that lead into the backyard, showing off a well manicured lawn and gardens with a fountain in the middle. Inspecting the door that lead to the gardens, he looked for any trace of blood that could strengthen his lead. Looking toward his feet, Connor noticed it near the door jamb. It was a small rust-colored splatter not bigger than a coin. A thin layer of dust had settled over it, but it didn’t look all that old. 

“Find something interesting, Mr. Dechart?” Kamski’s voice behind Connor nearly made him jump. Turning to Kamski, he kept his expression neutral. “You seem to have been in that corner as if dirt was a clue.”

“I spotted blood. Do you know anything about it?” Connor asked, knowing there was a chance for Kamski to lie in order to keep his facade that he was all powerful and nothing was wrong.

Kamski gave a curt nod. “Andrea said she cut her hand. Reckless girl. She got blood on the dress I’d just bought her.”

Connor furrowed his eyebrows slightly. “She cut her hand? The reports didn’t say she was injured at all.”

“I didn’t think it was necessary to say. It isn’t like those  _ undesirables  _ hurt her.” Kamski sounded off to Connor. Something about his frustrated tone put Connor off. “They just took her.”

Connor nodded. “I see, Mr. Kamski. I can tell she meant a lot to you.”

“I chose her out of all the other women. Beautiful, smart, and a proper lady,” Kamski said. 

Connor nodded again, unsure of what to say to that. He’d no idea how the wealthy had lived. To him, the thought of Kamski picking out Andrea Manfred like he would in a store sent his nerves rigid. 

After an awkward moment longer, it was Kamski that spoke. “Well, Mr. Dechart, I’d hate to make you leave in the middle of an investigation, but I have a meeting soon, and it would look...unsightly if they were to see yourself in my house.”

Unslightly, huh, Connor thought as he stepped toward the front door, taking note that there was more to this kidnapping than what Kamski originally reported. 

Connor put his hat back on as he reached the front door. He bowed his head once in respect before stepping out into the sunlight and getting on his horse. Heading toward the train station, Connor couldn’t get the traces of blood he’d seen throughout the house out of his head. The fingerprint in the journal that he’d taken with him in his coat, the stain on the rug in the tea room, and the splatter by the back door. It didn’t add up that the lady of the house had merely cut herself.

Connor received the telegraph as soon as he was spotted at the train station. Connor knew exactly what it meant, even if the telegraph operator looked confused.

_ Lafayette STOP _


	2. Chapter 2: Andi (Almost a Year Later)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been almost a year since Markus had taken her from Belle Isle. Andi's not the same poor, little rich girl that chose to leave Elijah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is where the shameless self-insert is. Sorry for taking a bit to upload. I promise I was working on it.

She was thankful for the slight breeze in the air as she rode with him. His hand transferred between holding onto the reins with both hands and moving to rest at her waist, smoothing down the fabric of her dress. The feeling sent a small shiver up her spine and tickled her. Adjusting against him on the saddle, she felt his hand around her waist tighten and his lips get dangerously close to her neck. 

“Keep that wiggling up and I’m going to have to stop,” he said lowly in her ear, his lips reaching down to kiss the soft skin of her neck. 

She tilted her head for him, letting him have whatever part of her neck he wanted. The lazy kisses to her skin was relaxing and in a way, comforting to her. She knew he’d stop if she wanted him to, but wasn’t totally sure she wanted him to stop grazing his lips against her skin. 

She felt a smirk on her lips as she leaned against him. “And where would we stop should the need arise?”

He groaned against her neck. She knew he was closing his heterochromatic eyes. “Right here,” he said with a husk in his voice that made her shiver. 

She felt her face flush at the scenery around her. There wasn’t much: a couple trees here and there, boulders that marked the trail of the road, grass and dirt. “In the open? There isn’t much to shield us from the road.”

He smirked. “Gotta show them you’re mine, sweetheart.”

“We both know that,” she said, sliding her hand to his, giving it a tentative squeeze. It was the only time she could really show her feelings for him was when they were alone. “I don’t think it would be wise for the world to know.”

He groaned against her skin. “Andi…”

“I mean it, Markus. You’re a wanted man.”

She felt his wary smirk. “Most wanted man around. Best shot too.”

“Don’t get cocky,” she chided, keeping her hand over his. She felt his fingers shift, curling around hers. 

Andi knew he was worried about the world finding out the truth about her and discovering his weaknesses. One of those weaknesses was that Markus Carlson couldn’t lie. He was horrible at it. Being put on the spot to come up with something other than the truth was something he couldn’t smooth talk his way out of. Granted, there are the white lies that he’s told with no problems, but anything to keep from getting shot, was better off to be met with a bullet. Another weakness was her. She knew it and was pretty sure that those closest to Markus--Simon, Josh, North, and Stitch--knew it as well. 

“Andi…” came Markus’s voice in her thoughts. She shook her head, not realizing he’d been calling her name for who knew how long. She looked to him with a questioning look. “You okay?”

Finding her words, she nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“We can stop if you need to.”

“I’m fine. How much longer before we are in Sterling?”

Markus kissed her head, as if it was reassuring him that she was okay. “Not much longer. We will be there before dinner. I heard the Chicken Feed Saloon runs an inn too. Perfect place.”

“We are going to need a larger place than some small inn,” she found herself saying before she could stop herself.

“We will find a good place for Jericho to meet up,” he reassured, leaning close to her ear. “You worry too much.”

Andi smiled, glancing to him. The sun’s rays cast against him, highlighting the colors in his eyes. The green eye seemed to have a swirl of light honey to it while the blue eye light up. She could get lost in those eyes. 

Lord, oh Lord, she thought as she kept her eyes on him, leaning into him and relaxing as best she could against him while riding his horse. 

“Someone has to worry, Markus.”

Markus smiled. “I know, and I can’t think of anyone better to worry about me and the fate of Jericho than you.”

Andi smiled that knowing smile before pressing a small kiss to his jawline. “That’s because I’ve become halfway decent at patching you all up.”

Markus chuckled as he rode into the outskirts of Sterling. “You’ve definitely come a long way from when we met.”

How could I forget, she thought, it was the first time I’d seen that much blood. 

“I could have screamed that night, you know,” she reminded, seeing the town off in the distance.

“But you didn’t.”

Sterling wasn’t extravagantly large like Belle Isle, but it wasn’t as small as some of the towns she’d seen on her travels with Markus and Jericho. It thrived on being between railroad tracks and near a river that farmers used to fertilize their land. Near the middle of the town sat The Chicken Feed Saloon, which had recently purchased the inn next door for those who were too drunk to figure out where home was--for a fee, of course. The town had sprawled a little from the last time Andi had stepped foot into the boundaries. But that was ages ago--it felt like nearly a lifetime. 

Swallowing down the lump in her throat from nervousness at seeing the bulletin board of wanted members of society, she glanced to Markus, wondering if he was at all nervous knowing that his wanted poster was hung up in the town square. 

“So, what does my captured princess want to do while we aren’t around Jericho?” Markus asked as he rode into town, knowing better than to draw attention to himself. 

“A bath,” Andi said immediately, knowing a hot soak would take away all the tiredness from the trip since they’d left Simon and the others three days ago. 

“Anything else?”

Andi wet her lips, briefly remembering when she used to run along the streets with Jen when they were younger; before she was shipped to finishing school to learn to be a proper lady of first class society. Her eyes rested on a poker game that was just inside another saloon on the edge of town. “Poker.”

Getting off a horse was never graceful for Andi after riding for what seemed like forever. Her joints and bones were stiff, her corset dug into places, and it felt like everything was cramped up and constrained. The mistresses at school would have whipped her for the indecent act of even riding a horse without being side-saddle, and even more so if they knew she could gamble and drink like the men. She smiled to Markus as he caught her, planting her feet firmly on the ground and letting her adjust to the new shift in balance. 

“Let’s get our room and we will see about that bath,” he said smoothly, giving her arm a squeeze before letting her step toward the saloon. 

Markus placed a hand on the small of her back, giving her a small smile when she looked to him. After giving a glance around, Andi walked inside, taking note of a couple poker games and the bartender on the other side, waiting to pour the next drink. She stepped to the bar, splaying her hand across the counter to steady herself. 

The bartender nodded his head toward Markus. “Hello, friend, what can I do you for?”

“Two glasses of bourbons,” Markus said smoothly. 

The bartender cast a glance toward Andi, making her suppress the high urge to roll her eyes. It forced herself to remember that no one knew she wasn’t married to Markus. That she was merely along for the ride on the outside. Markus said so himself, he wasn’t the marrying kind. “That second glass for your wife as well?”

Markus glanced to Andi as she turned to watch the rest of the saloon, hearing idle chatter and faint music in the air. Her attention was on the poker game on the other side of the room. The room  was thick with smoke from cigars and reaked of old, spilled booze. “Yeah, the lady will have a glass.”

“You sure her weak constitution would allow for it?”

Andi could hear the slight tightness in Markus’s voice, not breaking her attention from the game happening. “Yes, I am sure. She’s tougher than she looks.”

Markus leaned close to Andi, making her eyes glance to him without turning her head. “Not yet, give it time, Andi.”

She knew what he meant. She couldn’t just jump into a poker game without him beside her. She knew that, but it was growing tougher to just sit back and watch the tells of every man at that table. 

“The man on the left scratches his chin when he has the start of a high flush or anything good,” she whispered to him, keeping her voice low enough so only Markus heard her. “The man in the middle, across from the dealer, is bluffing. He knows he does because he takes a drink after every bet he’s sure he could come out on top with. The man on the right is trying not to lose every penny he has in this game. He went a little stiff after getting his last card. He’ll be fine if he doesn’t fold because the man next to him has jack and he knows it.”

She felt his smirk against her ear. “Who taught you to look for tells like that?”

Andi smirked halfly to him. “Simon and Stitch.”

“Here you go, two glasses of bourbon,” the bartender said as he set the glasses on the counter. Markus paid him before handing a glass to Andi, making sure she stopped watching the poker game for just a little while. Andi took a drink, holding back the shiver as she felt the liquid burn down her throat and warm her insides. “So what brings you around these parts?”

“Business ventures,” Markus said smoothly, a lie he’d said more than once in different towns.

“Business? Have you started any businesses before?”

“A little here and there,” Markus said with a small sway of his head, indicating the fact that he’d been nearly all over. 

“Is that how you met your wife?” the bartender asked, nodding to Andi. 

Andi felt a blush rise in her cheeks at the term. Oh, if only that poor sap knew Markus didn’t marry, she thought. Markus smiled as he looked to Andi. She looked to him, her fingertip tracing the rim of the glass. “Yes, it is. Her father was impressed I ran some successful ventures.”

The bartender nodded, scanning Andi. She could feel his eyes rake over every part of her body that he could see. It unnerved her. She felt Markus bring a hand to her waist, gently pulling her a little closer. Jealousy over Andi was another weakness of Markus’s and both Andi and Markus knew it. 

“Caught yourself quite the wife, friend,” he said with a short nod. 

Markus peered to Andi as she brought the glass to her lips, making her feel self conscious. “Yes,” he started with a soft tone. “Yes, I am.”

Andi pulled her eyes from Markus as he continued talking to the bartender. She glanced around the saloon, noting the mirror that sat behind the liquor bottles to give the illusion that there was more liquor than there actually were, the set of stairs that sat near the poker game made her think that’s where some travelers stayed along with some prostitutes, and the small section of wall that held posters and leaflets of paper. Among those pieces of paper was wanted posters, showing various pictures of members of Jericho. On top of all the wanted posters was Markus’s. 

Andi was aware of a couple of them that were circulating throughout the areas they’d been. This one was a newer one, shaded just lightly to show his different colored eyes and his the shadows that his hat usually casted over them. The reward was a hefty sum that could easily set a man for life in the lap of luxury if he was lucky enough to even get close to Markus to arrest him or kill him. She read the poster. He was wanted for murder, theft, kidnapping, destruction of a man’s property, and armed robbery of stagecoaches, trains, and banks. Kidnapping was something she didn’t think he could get charged for. She left on her own will, not the will of him. The poster didn’t scare her. It was the few words printed on the top of the poster that made her heart pound against her chest, her head spin, and her blood run cold:  _ Wanted Dead or Alive _ .

No matter how many times she’d been reassured, the thoughts of Markus being thrown into a wooden box for the world to see was something that haunted her dreams. She knew what they did to those wanted dead or alive, and the thought of seeing that happen with Markus set her on edge. She gripped the glass she was holding as her mind reminded her of what Markus’s future could be. 

It took a while for Markus to nudge her out of her thoughts; Andi could tell by the name he called her. “Andrea,” he whispered in her ear carefully, placing a hand on hers and his other hand running against her arm. “Hey, beautiful, look at me.”

Hesitantly, she looked toward him, seeing the concerned, caring look in his eyes. “I’m okay,” she said with as steady of a breath as she could manage.

Markus gave her hand a small squeeze, further grounding her into reality. He turned to the bartender. “Say, Gary, is there any possibility you could give me that room key. I think my  _ wife  _ here is just a little tired from the trip.”

Gary nodded before turning his back on the patrons in the bar to get a key. Andi looked to Markus. “We don’t have to go to the room yet, Markus,” she said softly. 

“We do. We have luggage to lock up. We can come back down once we are settled,” he said as he stood from the stool, guiding her with him.

Her eyes rested on the game that had reset itself at the other end of the room as Markus got the key and instructions for something that Andi didn’t feel the need to pay attention to. She had no idea how close she was to the game until one of the players spoke to her.

“Interested in playin’, dear heart?” he asked. His mustache and beard were littered with white and stained with booze. He was older, probably closer to her father’s age than hers. 

“Yeah,” she said innocently. 

The men around the table smirked. The one next to the man before spoke up. “Ya got money to play? You ain’t playin’ unless you has the cash, princess.”

Simon calls me princess for riding side saddle, she thought as she pulled a few bills from the top of her dress. “Will this do?”

Handing the dealer the money, she sat down. She knew how much in chips she had and how much she could stand to earn if she wiped out her competition on the other side of her. The man was about her age, possibly a couple years older. He reminded her of her brother, Leo. He eyed her as the rest of the table was dealt their cards. The older man next to her leaned to her, forcing her to hide her cards. 

“You from around here, darlin’?” he asked, the smell of stale booze present on his breath. 

“No, I am from near Lafayette,” she said as she kept up on her appearance of guessing at what she was doing with her cards and her bets. 

“Lafayette’s some beautiful women up in there,” he said as he played. He'd clearly never set foot out of his own town, but Andi knew better than to call him out. “No wonder yer from around them parts.”

Andi nodded as she looked at her cards, wondering what would be the best action to take. She could feel her anxiety disappear the more she looked at her cards. She knew poker and knew that the worst outcome in poker was losing all your money. 

“You married?”

Why is this town obsessed with my marital status? The last damn town wasn’t like this and it was smaller, Andi thought as she watched the tells of the men she was playing against. 

“Yes,” she said, remembering that Markus had answered that once before to Gary. 

“Where’s yer husbin’ then?” another man around the table asked. 

“Getting us a room,” she said. She looked up to the men that watched her, finding it hard to ignore the looks they were giving her. “He knows I carry money on me.”

Andi could feel Markus’s body behind her, watching her cards as well as the men around her. His hands were placed on the back of the chair; she could feel his fingers gently grazing her hair at the back of her neck. She stood just enough to toss in a bet, giving the men at the table a peek down her dress. It was easier to get more money out of men playing poker when they  could see her cleavage, she learned early. 

“How long ya been married then?” one of the men asked. Andi didn’t bother lifting her head to see who it was specifically. 

“A year,” Markus answered behind her. She could feel his fingers slide against her hair. “Or just about a year.”

Almost year ago, I left to join you, she thought as she watched a man go all in on his cards. Andi knew he had something good, but not that good. She watched the men look at their cards, keeping hers close to them. 

Her gaze didn't leave theirs as she moved to allow Markus to sit on her chair, pulling her to his lap. She moved pliantly, feeling his arm curl around her waist like a belt and his other hand resting comfortably on her thigh. Giving it a squeeze, she looked to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“I have a full house, pretty sure the others have nothing,” she whispered, taking the opportunity to whisper to him while it looked like she was allowed to be affectionate. 

Markus smirked halfly, squeezing her leg forcing a breathless gasp from her. She knew what it meant. It mean she was allowed to clean them out this round.

“Ya mus’ be 'er husbin,” one of the men asked. Markus merely nodded, finding it easier to keep silent then talk to drunkards. “Ya let 'er carry money? Ain't no respectin’ man would let women carry money. It just ain't natural.”

Andi felt Markus tense his hand on her thighs, hoping to end the game soon before Markus shot him. She placed a hand over his hoping to ease his nerves. “It's an allowance,” Markus said smoothly. “Keeps the wife happy.”

The man chuckled, his tobacco stale breath was enough to make Andi sick to her stomach. “Well, she just might lose all 'er allowance here. It ain't right is a woman can play poker and win.”

The Moment of Truth finally came after the dealer called last bets. Andi watched as each man lay their cards down, one of them having two pair, another with three of a kind, but nothing really came close to her full house. The men sat there in shock as Andi tried to keep her smirk down. 

“Is this good?” she asked as innocently as she could, trying to play on beginner's luck.

“How in the hell…” one man asked as he looked to her, a scowl replacing the surprise on his face. 

“Is this good?” she repeated, knowing she was rubbing on their last nerve. 

“Oh, it's good,” Markus said as he patted her thigh. “You won.”

Andi couldn't contain the excitement as she leans to gather the pile and push it close to her. She couldn't help the smirk that exploded onto her face as she gathered it and handed it to Markus. 

“She cheated,” one of the men finally said when he realized everything. Another man came to as he watched her much closer.

“You want to run that by me again?” Markus asked, his gaze narrowing toward the accuser, his hand slowly reaching for his gun as to not advert attention to the motion as it left Andi's waist. 

The man stood up, a flash of silver gleamed in the light. “She. Cheated.” His tone had turned cold and his gaze fell onto Andi. “She needs to give back all the money she stole.”

Andi felt her eyes widen and her hand moved to find Markus's other hand for comfort. Her heart leapt into her throat as she heard Markus say, “Or what?”

Andi could see the blood splatter on the man's shirt. Probably from a duel or boxing, she thought as she looked to Markus. He never took his eyes off the man. 

“Or we're taking her out back to properly repay us,” he said, flashing teeth that resembled something black and dead. 

Andi trembled at the thought, gripping Markus's arm. She never thought her playing would come to this. She wanted to hide behind Markus, but also wanted to show she was brave like he was. Markus's tone remained even and firm, something that made him seem even more intimidating. “You are doing no such thing. She never said she didn't know how to play.”

“Not my fault you looked at my chest like a thirsty horse looks at water,” Andi muttered. She could feel Markus's look on her, warning her that the men were serious. It was obvious they weren’t used to a woman talking back. 

“What did ya say, woman?” one of the men asked, reaching for his gun. Andi could see the glimmer of metal on his hip. “A woman talkin’ back deserves a lesson.”

“A lesson you will not give,” Markus said firmly, his voice still stern and even. His hand pressed against the small of her back, urging her to the door. 

“An’ what makes you think that yer gonna let ‘er walk away?” the man’s voice was deadly, promising there would be a gunshot in the air if he didn’t like what Markus’s answer was. 

Markus just gave a soft smirk, one that wasn’t too cocky. “Because, you’ll earn yourself a bullet hole if you don’t.”

The man narrowed his glare to Markus, not happy with the fact that Markus was seeming to undermine him. Andi gave a good tug to Markus. “Let’s just go, Markus,” she said in a soft whisper. 

“Just who do you think you are?” the man asked slowly, paying no mind to Andi’s small plea. “Markus Carlson?”

Markus just gave a smirk. “You’d only be so lucky to know, now wouldn’t you?” He started toward the door, his hand at the small of Andi’s back, fingers curled around her waist. He made it a point to tap his wanted poster on the way out. 

The two walked in silence as they made their way to the bath house across the street. Andi could feel the tension in Markus slowly dissipate with each step, but his hand around her waist kept firm. He was pissed and she knew it. 

“Did you have to clean them out that bad?” he asked lowly as they stopped on the porch of the bath house. 

“You said I could,” she said easily as she looked to him.

“They accused you of cheating.”

“So? It’s their fault they weren’t paying attention.”

“Andi,” he said with that disappointed tone. The tone struck through her, it made her look at him with that pathetic look. “I can’t always keep men like that from trying to get their money back. You need to be more careful.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she said more harsh than she’d meant. She turned from him, heading into the bath house without another word. 

The attendant was an older woman, probably with grown kids, with deep wrinkles that canvased her entire face and frizzy hair that was an odd mix of gray and yellow that was swirled into a bun on top of her head. Her smile was worn, but still happy to receive customers until she saw who the patrons were. She took in Andi and Markus, perhaps supposing that they were weary travelers as they normally were. Andi had known her from her younger days, even then, the woman didn’t seem to have children around and looked about the same. Jen used to call her The Witch. The look the woman gave the two of them was a mix between welcoming and disdain as she drummed her fingers against the counter. 

“Yes?” her voice was curt, making Andi stand a little straighter, like she was back at finishing school. 

“We’d like a bath,” Markus said, ignoring the way the woman looked at him as he’d normally would. 

“One or two?” the woman asked, still not amused by the sight of him with her. 

“One,” he said, as if challenging this woman to further her expressions and comments he could nearly see running in her head. The slight raise of his eyebrow and the look on his face nearly sent a shiver down Andi’s spine. 

She clicked her tongue. “I see,” she said as she grabbed a key. “Soap and a towel is extra for you, boy.”

“Fuckin’ bat,” Andi muttered under her breath as Markus nudged her, almost reminding her she was in public and not around Jericho. She could curse around Jericho, but not in public. As far as the public was concerned, she was still a well-brought-up lady of society. 

Grabbing the towels and soap, the old woman held them onto the counter. The tap of her nails against the wood of the counter rubbed against Andi’s nerves. She tilted her head to Andi, as if she was waiting for payment from her. Andi looked to Markus as he tossed the money on the counter, feeling the tension swarm back to him. She could tell he was trying to keep from doing something stupid. North probably would have tossed the woman from the counter by now with Stitch laughing. Taking the money, the woman put it in the cash register, before slamming it shut. 

“This way,” she said as she grabbed the towels and the soap, leading them further into the building. Down the hall, the last door on the right is where she decided to place them. After giving Markus another glance, the old woman opened the door, placing the towels on a table inside. “Don’t make a mess or the boy is cleaning it up.”

Andi narrowed her eyes at her as the old woman walked back to the front of the building. First of all, witch, Markus is not a boy, she thought vehemently; secondly, you look like death in human form.

Stepping into the room, Andi looked around as she kicked off her shoes. The metal tub was steaming hot, making her want to sigh at the possibility of feeling that water. Feeling Markus’s arms snake around her waist and his lips connect to her neck, she leaned against him. His lips slowly traced down the column of her throat as his hands trailed up to the buttons on her dress, carefully undoing them one by one. Gingerly, he made his way to her neck, his lips going to her shoulder as his fingers tangled into her dirty blonde hair and taking out the comb she had in it. His breath danced against her warm skin, sending goosebumps down her skin wherever he wasn’t touching. 

“Your hair is so much prettier down,” he whispered huskily as he teased the ends of her hair. “So much easier to get my hands into how soft it is.” He twisted his fingers around a natural curl at the end of her hair as it fell to her shoulders and down her back. 

She hummed, relishing in his soft touches from his calloused hands against her soft skin. She turned against him, pressing a kiss to his lips as her hands slid from her shoulders to the buttons of his shirt, pulling them apart a little quicker than he had. Getting to the end, she tugged his shirt up from his pants and pushed it off his shoulders. The kiss deepened as his hands rested on her hips, slowing her down from getting his holster off. Sliding her tongue against his, she felt his hum of pleasure. Holding onto the buckle of his holster, his hands slid her dress off, letting it pool onto the floor with his travel-worn shirt.

Markus’s hands felt heavenly against her as he undressed her carefully. Not so careful that she was made of porcelain, but careful as if she was precious to him. Andi heard his slight groan when she undid his gun holster and set it on the chair nearest to the tub. A sigh escaped her when she felt her corset come loose. It was enough to nearly sweep her of her feet and make her feel lightheaded. She held onto him as he picked her bare form up and set her into the tub.

Relaxing into the hot water was what she needed as she slid into the water, watching her hair float around her. Grabbing the edges to not slide all the way in, she looked to Markus with a knowing smirk. “You should join me. I’d hate to have to wash myself.”

Markus chuckled as he slipped his pants off and draped them over the back of his chair, doing the same to the remainder of the clothes on the floor. He stood at her, watching her scoot up to allow him in. She heard his content relief as the water lapped against his sun-darkened skin, bringing his knees up to allow her room to rest against him. This was a norm for them. They were used to the feel of each other’s skin against each other. The feel of his hands on her skin as the soap-filled rag he used drifted across more intimate parts of her. The soft mounds of her breasts slipped against his hands making her moan with an exhale of her breath. Using his legs to trap her against him, he brought his other hand down to her thigh, sliding it up until he felt her twitch beneath him. That earned a moan of his name. 

“D-Don’t tease,” she pleaded as water sloshed outside the tub as he slid the rag along her creamy skin, making her buck her hips for more of his touches that would send her to another plane of existence. She crashed her head against his shoulder, gripping the edges of the metal tub for something to keep her planted as he took a breast into one and squeezed. She moaned into the room, arching her back from him.

Markus smirked against her ear, nipping the skin around it. “Tease? I would never.”


	3. Chapter 3: Jen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jen's waiting for a someone. Connor is looking for information. Hank is drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So, this was written probably a little quicker than the other two chapters. More specifically, I wanted to get to a certain scene that would make my best friend giggle and blush. Anyway, please leave a Kudos or a comment and let me know how I am doing! "Thank you in advance for your cooperation" (Connor)

Jen watched as her father drank another shot of whiskey with Gary. She was thankful yet shameful of what she was wearing. It wasn’t something she normally wore, but she needed information. A woman needed to make money somehow and a good front was being a lady of the night. Men were willing to give information to any woman willing to give something to them. Unlike that no-good-piece-of-shit Simon Daniels. He could rot in hell for trying to touch without permission. He wanted information and he got it; that was the deal. He earned the cut to the side and the slap across the face. Jen didn’t think Simon was like that--he seemed the more cultured of the ones that rode under the Jericho name. But that was months ago. 

This time, she found herself waiting for someone. Information told her that some US Marshal was heading toward her hometown about Jericho. Seeing how she saw a glimpse of Jericho’s leader earlier heading into the bath house, she figured the Marshal wasn’t too far behind. Jen just hoped that it wasn’t some old guy that thought he still had control of her.

“Hey, Gary, gimme another shot,” her father said as he held his glass in the air. The sheriff’s badge he wore gleaming in the light of the saloon. Jen rolled her eyes. 

“Is the only reason you come in here because I don’t charge you for the liquor, old man?” Gary asked as he poured the sheriff another. 

The sheriff smiled lopsidedly, his gray hair swaying a little. “Of course. Jimmy charges me sometimes double.”

“That’s because you get doubles, Papa,” Jen said with a small roll of her eyes and a shake of her head. “Jimmy still has a business to run.”

“An’ I should be gettin’ it free,” Sheriff Anderson said as he drank his next drink. 

Gary gave him an unbelieving look. “Right, and I should be richer than I am. You and I both know you are missin’ a deputy after a run-in with outlaws in the next town over.”

“Reed fuckin’ knew wha’ he was gettin’ into,” the sheriff said as he watched the liquid in his glass swirl around. “He shot at them, and they shot back with a better aim.”

“Who shot him, Papa?” Jen asked. She knew about what happened to Gavin, but didn’t know who or what happened exactly. However, she did know that Gavin was still alive and there was a couple bullets in him. 

“Eh? Oh, he claimed it was Jericho,” he said, turning from Jen and going back to his drink. “I think he was blowin’ it out ‘is fuckin’ ass.” With a mutter after downing his drink, he added, “Like fuckin’ usual.”

“Papa, you know Gavin is a good deputy. You’re just bitter he got shot.”

“Shoulda been a better aim,” her father said bitterly as he tapped the counter for more liquor.

Jen knew it was for the best that she didn’t mention to her father that she saw the leader of Jericho and did nothing about it. Her father wasn’t in any position to be in any sort of fight with someone so dangerous, especially Markus Carlson. He’s known for being a great shot. 

“Like you’re much better, Hank.” Gary poured him another drink, knowing Hank wouldn’t arrest him for any wrongdoing within reason. Murder was a different story, but fighting someone because they started trouble in his saloon? Hank would turn the other way.

“I kin shoot!” Hank called out as he took a drink. “I’mma better aim th’n fuckin’ Reed.”

“And yet he’s our only deputy. Ever think about hiring a new one? Reed can’t be fronting all the work, Hank.”

“Bullshit he can’t! He dun know the firs’ thing about law...stuff,” Hank said as he rested his arm on the bar, propping his head up. 

Jen turned from the conversation from Gary and her father, knowing he was going to be there for a while. Usually, Hank drank in silence, but apparently he had a lot to say. Maybe he saw the telegram from the US government to cooperate with their Marshal. Adjusting herself on the stool, she looked around. The one poker table still looked pissed off about something. Mutters around her told her that it was about someone cheating. They probably are terrible players if they are complaining, Jen thought as she took herself from it, looking back around at a shadowed figure that started from the street and to the saloon door. 

The figure was thin and lanky. But it wasn’t for the lack of muscles she could see outlined in the shirt as he walked in. Taking off his hat that kept the sun off his face, she blinked. She wasn’t expecting someone young, around her age. He had dark hair with long bangs that curled away from his dark chocolate hair. It curled along his bangs and stopped above his eyebrow. Jen could see the hints of waves to it coming from how it had gotten wet and pushed back from his eyes. When his eyes rested on her, she felt her heart skip and her skin heat up under his gaze. Milk chocolate eyes scanned her, making Jen feel more self-conscious about what she was wearing. 

Don’t sound like an idiot. Don’t sound like an idiot. Don’t sound like an idiot, she told herself as he stepped to her, keeping his hat at his side. 

She couldn’t keep her eyes from noticing the badge against his chest. Right above his heart, she thought to herself; so he’s in law enforcement like Papa. 

“Excuse me, Miss, but I am looking for Sheriff Anderson.” When Jen raised her eyebrow in a little confusion, he went on, “My name is Connor Dechart. I am the Marshal sent from the US government.”

“You’re the Marshal?” she asked, trying to sound skeptical. “The one that’s trying to capture Jericho?”

“Yes, you’ve heard of the group?”

Jen nodded. “Oh, I’ve heard of them. Just wondering how you’re going to manage against Markus.”

“I assure you, I will manage fine. Now, I need to speak with Sheriff Hank Anderson.” His voice sounded so smooth to her. It was a little naive, but it was firm and made something deep within her blush. 

“Sheriff Anderson?” Jen took a glance of the old man now resting his head on the counter clutching his glass as if he were perpetually asking for more to drink. “He’s indisposed at the moment. I can give you the information you need. Papa will be like that for a while.”

“I wasn’t aware Sheriff Anderson had a daughter,” he said a little bewildered.

Jen smirked a little, seeing a faint blush rise to his cheeks when he saw her and what she was wearing. It made her chest hot knowing he was looking at her so openly. Guiding him into the room, she tried not to peak at him like he had her. His pants fit him perfectly, as if they were tailored to him. The vest he was wearing sat just above the curve. Her heart skipped another beat as she shut the door and locked it, keeping them from peering eyes. 

Connor scanned the room he was in, a deep red coloring his cheeks. “Interesting career choice, Miss Anderson.”

“It isn’t a career choice. No one touches me,” she said casually as she sat in a chair away from the bed. “You’d be surprised with how much information I can get from men who buy my silence.”

“You’re an information broker,” he said confidently as he sat across from her, placing his hat on the table between them.

“Of sorts,” she said. 

“Is that why you keep a small handgun on your thigh?”

She blushed openly. “You saw it?”

“No, but you do absentmindedly adjust it higher every now and again. You also have a throwing knife in your hair disguised as a comb.”

Jen widened her eyes before trying to hide her surprise with a smirk. “You were checking me out more than you let on, Mr. Dechart,” she said coolly. 

“No, I just generally know where to look for weapons. I once tracked an outlaw who kept weapons in some...creative places,” Connor explained, keeping his hands on his lap. 

A gentleman Marshal, Jen thought with surprise, how weird. 

“Well, a girl needs to be able to protect herself,” Jen said as if it were fact and common that women carried weapons.

“So tell me, Miss Anderson, what do you know about Jericho? Sources say that Sheriff Anderson would know more about them than most. Nearly all my leads have said so as well. So tell me what you know.”

“It will cost you,” Jen reminded. “I do not give information like that so willingly.”

“Understandable,” Connor answered with a reassured tone that nearly made Jen melt. “The government will make sure you are rewarded for your efforts in the capture of Jericho.”

“Good,” she said as she crossed her legs, leaning back as much as she could in her corset. “What do you want to start with?”

“Do you know the name of the girl Jericho took?”

The snort of a laugh that came from Jen was involuntary. “I doubt that girl was taken as you suggest. I know of Elijah Kamski and I know Andi, there was no way in hell it was a smart match. Next.”

Connor blinked at the brusqueness of her answer. “You must’ve heard reports of Jericho in the area. What else do you know?”

Jen did all she could to keep her eyes from his puppy eyes. Those pleading eyes she knew she’d be putty for. “About Jericho?”

“Yes.”

“A lot more than you, I can say that. They’ve been taking housekeepers and others in these parts and giving them a choice. Some think it is the wrong choice, but a choice. Not like the government has given them much options. Kidnappers, they are not, Mr. Dechart.”

“Please, call me Connor. It sounds odd hearing you call me so formally, Miss Anderson.”

Jen almost blushed at the statement. “Then you aren’t allowed to call me Miss Anderson, Connor.”

“What shall I call you then?”

“Jen,” she said. “It’s what everyone calls me.”

Connor smiled a half smile that tugged at the one side of his face. “Jen it is.”

Jen nodded. “Jericho are also known for robberies. I’m sure you’ve heard of the legend of Robin Hood. Where some idiot steals from the rich and gives to the poor? Well, Markus is a lot like that. They are looking for corrupt towns to give new life to, trying to give rights and other things to those they believed are oppressed or some shit.”

“And the kidnapping?”

“What kidnapping? Regardless of what Kamski thinks, the bastard he is, she wasn’t taken against her will.”

“What makes you say that?”

Jen shook her head once. “She hates being cooped up. Hated it in finishing school and probably still hates it. Anyway, I heard that Jericho’s men had been through here before. You must know some of the ranks between them.”

“I do. Simon, Josh, North and Stitch are the top of them, Markus’s most trusted. Just as deadly as he his, but not as accurate. Stitch is blood-thirsty, likes to try to play with his food as it were. North likes to make yours a slow death. Josh is accurate, but won’t pull the trigger unless he has to shed blood. Simon? Well, Simon is number two for a reason.”

“He was recently injured, wasn’t he?” Connor asked. 

Jen raised an eyebrow. “Just how far back does your  _ records _ go?”

“Couple weeks to a month behind. Far quicker than the last people I chased down in the east,” Connor said.

“Yeah, he was around here and deserved all he got too. Bastard got too handsy.”

Connor nodded, seeming to know it was best not to press that issue. “What about Markus? He is the leader, but not much is known about him other than what he looks like and his crimes.”

“He’s smart. He knows how to play someone to get what he wants. Smooth talker, too.” Which is probably why Andi decided to join him, Jen thought bitterly as she looked from her lap to Connor. “He knows what he’s doing. He’s freaky fast and deadly accurate. Only kills unless absolutely necessary. He’s like Josh like that, but more accurate than North, Stitch, and Simon. He always has his gun on him. Always. There is only one instance when he doesn’t, and I’m sure no decent human wants to see someone in that state.”

“When’s that?”

Jen blinked. “You’ve no idea.”

Connor shook his head.

Jen put a hand to her chest. “Oh Lord, help this man.” She looked to him. “I’m sure you’ve been in this...position before.”

“I can assure you I haven’t.”

Jen blinked, feeling her throat tighten, her heart speed up, and her blush get deep red. “The only time his gun isn’t near him is when he’s laying a woman.”

Connor blushed deeply, showing he’d never think that would be a reason why a gun wouldn’t be near. “I...ummm...oh.”

Jen nodded. “When he’s bedding the woman he’s with, his gun isn’t near him. The trick is finding when he is. It isn’t like he has a set time.” She sighed, feeling embarrassed she had to explain to a man what another man does in his spare time. 

“What about bathing? He couldn’t possibly…”

He was cut off by the shake of Jen’s head. “Nope, he keeps it on a chair next to the tub. He’s a master at quick draw, even if you found him indecent, he’d still pull the trigger before you knew it. Going after Markus when he’s around Jericho is a suicide mission. He’s calculating.”

“I’ve lost comrades in arms because of him alone,” Connor admitted. “They’ve tried getting him when he’s...busy.”

“Like when?”

“Riding a horse, capturing him while was  _ negotiating _ with the mayors of a couple towns, while drinking,” Connor listed off his fingers. 

“First of all, he’s mastered shooting and riding. Still as accurate as standing still. His talks with mayors is when he’s definitely alert. He goes after them while the rest of Jericho is busy. I heard some of your men died because they tried for the others first. Stupid mistake. You need an army to take them on. Secondly, it takes a lot to get him drunk enough to take on and win. The man has the alcohol tolerance most drunks wish for. Some sources say it takes a rich man’s salary to even get him drunk enough to be loose lipped. He’s always on high alert.”

“Anything else I need to know about Markus Carlson?” Connor asked.

“Not much is known about him before the Belle Isle incident. That the one from a year ago, but the one before that. From a few years ago,” Jen added. She looked to her nails before looking back to the intrigued US Marshal. “He’s also well-read. Better than most common folks.”

“You weren’t lying when you said he was smart. Who taught him?”

Jen shrugged. “No one knows. He just showed up out of the blue. Some think he’s from the streets of Belle Isle, but others think different. Rumors mainly say he’s ties in Lafayette.”

“I’ve already been to Lafayette. There was nothing there on him. It’s like he slips in and out of the towns unnoticed.”

“Who would notice someone as inconspicuous as he? Yes, he has some identifying features, but who would pay attention to someone who seems quiet?” Jen questioned.

Connor nodded. “I understand.”

Jen nodded standing up after a moment of Connor not saying anything. “Well, we are going to have to make this look believable.”

Connor’s face flushed. “What?”

“You heard me. People out there are gonna think we’ve been sinful in here. So we have to give them a show.”

Connor blushed and stood up. “How?” he asked with a determined look. 

Jen blushed at the forwardness of him. She scanned the man before her wondering of where to start. She reached to his hair and shook the surprisingly soft locks between her fingers. The dark brown hair curled around her fingers as she messed his hair. Smiling when his hair was thoroughly disheveled, she smoothed her hands along his chest, feeling red rise to her cheeks when she felt how strong he was under his shirt.

“Oh sweet lord have mercy,” she breathed as her fingers popped a few buttons off his shirt and pulled his tie from around his neck, resisting the urge to pull him down for a breathtaking kiss. He was so close yet so far. Jetting her eyes from his lips, she stuffed his tie into the pocket of his vest, undoing all of the buttons on that. She continued by untucking his shirt from his pants, catching a glimpse of the skin beneath.

He’s going to be the death of me, she thought as she scanned him, her throat suddenly parched thinking about how incredibly attractive the man before her really was. 

Connor’s face was a solid red by the time she was done making his appearance look presentable for the insinuation of what they’d never actually done. She watched as his eyes scanned her almost like a hungry man would. Jen fidgeted in place, wondering what was going through the man’s head. Connor closed the space between them, looking down to her with eyes she’d never seen before in a man.

“What else should we do?” he asked, his tone not in the slightest suggestive, but Jen’s mind thought as though he used this tone specifically for her. 

“Make it actually…” Jen started before Connor’s lips were against hers in a fevered, inexperienced kiss. 

Jen sighed, finding her arms wrapping around his shoulders. Her fists balled his shirt in a tight grip. He’d taken her off guard in a pleasant surprise. His lips kept the kiss chaste, but his hands carefully slid up from her hips and to her waist, pressing her ever closer to him. She let out a breathless gasp as Connor continued his kiss along her jaw and toward her neck, finding a sensitive spot and nipping at it gently. No amount of reading paperback smut had prepared Jen for the feelings that swirled within her. She wanted as much of him as she could get, sinning be damned. Connor slowly brought his hands to her shoulders, pulling the fabric from her shoulders, making what was around her corset to drop further down her body. She shivered when she felt his sigh against her hot skin. Connor hummed against her neck, placing gentle, yet firm kissing along her creamy skin. Jen’s hand had left his shirt in favor of lacing through his hair, grabbing as tight as she could with a soft moan that escaped from her throat. Connor’s kisses had become more errotic as he drifted his kisses and feather light nips down her throat and to the connection of her neck and shoulder. When he earned a moan against his hair, his lips attached to her light ivory skin.

Jen gasped, grabbing onto him tighter to keep from ascending into heaven. “C-Connor…”

Connor merely hummed against her skin as he sucked just a little, pressing her smaller body against his more. The wiggle against his body sent shockwaves through his system like nothing ever had before. Her small noises of pleasure and whimpers of more spurned him on. He wanted more. He couldn’t stop what he was doing to her skin until he felt her tense in his arm and moan out his name. When he pulled away, he felt proud at the deep red spot about the size of a dollar coin at the junction of her neck and shoulder. Jen panted as she looked to him. Her cheeks were flushed to a deep pink color, a few shades lighter than the mark he’d etched into her skin. He’d no idea what he’d done, but he knew Jen enjoyed it. 

Gingerly, Jen untangled her fingers from his hair, embarrassed it had come to that. She smoothed her skirt after realizing she’d wrapped a leg around his. Connor kept a concerned hand on her arm, making sure she wasn’t going to fall over. By the way she was breathing and refusing to look him in the eye, it left him concerned. Jen finally looked to him, resisting the need to look from those whiskey colored eyes. 

“I need a drink,” she said breathlessly.

Connor gave her a concerned look. “I apologize,” he started before she raised a hand to stop him.

“For what? I told you to make it believable, and you did exactly that,” Jen said, her voice still a little airy from being swept off her feet in nearly the best way possible. 

“I didn’t ask permission,” Connor started, scared he’d crossed a line with her. Everything about him told Jen he honestly wasn’t thinking when he started the kiss. 

“If you went too far, I would have stopped you,” Jen reassured as she rested a hand on the door knob. “Now, are you ready to reenter society or do you need a moment?”

I could use a moment, Jen thought, but I need a drink more.

Connor nodded, grabbing his hat from the table. He walked smoothly to her, stopping to face her. “I am ready.”

Jen nodded and opened the door, letting the swarm of people occupying the saloon to flood around Jen and Connor. The place was nearly the same as when she left it. The men at one of the poker tables still looked salty. Her father, now awake and upright, was still drinking at his place at the bar. People had come in to sample the drink that the Chicken Feed offered. From the corner of her eye, she could see a couple heading up the stairs to part of the inn that Gary owned. Jen walked with Connor to her father, hoping that her father was in a mood to be cordial instead of his salty self.

“Papa,” she started, resting a hand on his shoulder and praying to God that he didn’t notice the mark Connor had left on her skin. “Papa, I want you to meet the US Marshal that just arrived.”

Hank turned to his daughter, scanning her over to make sure it was really her. Jen was used to this sort of scrutiny when it came to her father. “Who is he?”

Jen stepped to the side, letting Connor come into the drunk sheriff’s view. “Hello, Sheriff Anderson, my name is Connor Dechart. I am the Marshal sent by the US government.”

Hank scanned the man before him, an eyebrow raising further up his forehead as he took in Connor’s form. “This lily is a US Marshal?” Hank let out a chuckle. “Ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”

“I assure you, Sheriff Anderson, that I am a US Marshal,” Connor said with a firmness to his easy tone. It was the type of tone to settle beasts if it came to it. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Hank said as his lips drifted over the rim of the glass. “I heard it all before.”

Turning from Connor and her father, Jen looked at Gary with that easy smile to get herself whatever she wanted. Gary leaned against the bar, elbows resting his weight against the wood. Gary scanned Jen with a casual smile old friends would give. 

“What can I get you, love?” Gary asked. 

Jen chuckled, leaning in the same manner as he. “Three shots of whiskey. I need a drink.”

Gary smirked, glancing to the edge of her neck. He nodded to it. “So, your new government friend give you that present, sweetheart?”

Jen blushed then smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Gary smirked more. “I think I have.”

Without another word, Gary got the three shots out, pouring the amber liquor expertly after many years of practice. He slid the glasses toward Jen, who tried sliding him money for the drinks.

“Don’t worry about it, little lady, this one is on the house,” Gary said with a wink and a smirk. 

“You definitely know a way to a woman’s heart,” Jen said with a giggle as she handed her father and Connor two of the shots. “Bottom’s up, gents!”

“Don’ havva tell me t’ice,” Hank said with a further slur of his words as he lifted the small glass to his lips and drained the entirety of its contents. 

Jen looked toward Connor, who was still looking at his drink as if he had never seen a shot of whiskey before. Connor brought the glass to his nose, taking in the smell of the liquor before turning his head away. 

“Ya don’t sniff the damn thin’, son,” Hank started with a chuckle. “Ya drink the fuckin’ thing. Ya pansy.”

Connor looked to Hank before looking to Jen carefully, a look of insecurity on his face. “Alright, here it goes.”

With a swift motion, he tipped the liquid back into his mouth, letting the burning liquid linger against his tongue and settle in his mouth longer than he should have. He swallowed, feeling the amber drink burn his throat and warm his insides on the way down. He felt that warmth settle in his stomach like a hot coffee on a cold morning. The response his body gave was a whole body shiver that racked every nerve of his body and made his arms swish at his sides. His hair moved against the full body shake, displacing even more hair than before.

Jen laughed at the whole image in front of her, still holding her own shot glass. Her head tilted back and her laugh rang throughout the entire saloon. She looked to Connor once more. “Not into liquor are you?”

“Not in particular,” Connor said as he set the glass on the counter, as if rejecting the whole idea of whiskey.

Jen laughed some more, taking her drink without a shiver like Connor had. The action seemed to baffle Connor as she set the glass down and turned back to Connor. Scanning him over, taking in everything. A sudden flash memory of Connor’s strong arms wrapped around her forced Jen to hide the blush. Connor gave her an innocent, inquisitive look. 

“Where are you staying while you’re here, Connor?” Jen asked, wondering if there is an allowance or something for Marshals chasing outlaws for room and board. 

Connor shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I, uh, I haven’t gotten that far.”

“Haven’t gotten that far?”

Connor shook his head. “No, when I arrive into a town, it’s uncertain of how long I will be staying.”

“Well, considering you are in the general area of where Jericho is, I’d imagine you will be here for a while,” Jen said, tapping her finger against the bar. 

Connor nodded. “I suppose so.”

“Why not stay with Papa and me? You don’t have to pay ahead like Gary, and you don’t have to pay for food.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You won’t be. As long as you don’t mind the dog running around, you’ll be fine. Not like you will be there much anyhow.”

Connor nodded, giving it a steady thought as he looked toward his hat. It was a long moment before he looked back to Jen. “If you insist, I guess I’ve no choice.”

Jen smiled warmly. “Then let’s get going. Papa should be heading to bed anyway. Want to help me get him on his horse so I can guide him home?”

Connor nodded, helping get the sheriff to his feet, slinging an arm over his shoulder. “Thank you in advance for your cooperation, Sheriff Anderson,” he said as he guided the drunken man out to the horse that awaited him. 

Trying to get the man onto the horse was the challenge. Hank was dead weight under Connor and Jen’s arms. Heaving the man onto the rather tall horse was proving to be the worst. Hank wasn’t awake and there was only so much two people could do while trying to keep him propped up. 

“Here, I got this side,” a stranger said on the other side of the horse as he helped toss Hank across the saddle of his horse.

Jen had never heard this man’s voice before in town, nor could she put a face to someone tall like that. With his hat on, he was one of the taller men that Jen ever met. After making sure Hank was secure on the horse, she walked around to thank the mysterious man. Just as she’d made it to the other side of the horse, the man tipped his hat. 

“No need for a thanks, just helping out,” he said as he turned away and headed into the inn side of the Chicken Feed.

Jen stood there in shock before shaking out of it and turning back to Connor. “Think you could follow me to the house? Just follow Papa’s horse if you can’t see mine.”

Connor nodded obediently, turning to mount his horse. Jen mounted hers, making sure she had both sets of reins of the horses before flashing a smile to Connor. The trip to the house wasn’t long, but resided just outside town. The property held stables for the horses, a shed just offset to the house, and a small garden off to the side of the house that had been started years ago, but maintained. Jen dismounted her horse, tying it to a nearby pole to get Hank off his. 

Hank groaned deeply as he was moved from his horse, held up by Connor as Jen put all three horses in the stables to roam. Jen quickly gave them their water and hay before locking up the stables and heading to Connor. 

“Just in this way,” she said with a soft whisper as so not disturb the passed out man between them. Jen opened the door, being greeted by a large fluffy dog. Jen giggled, kneeling briefly to pet him. “Hey, Sumo, were you a good boy while Papa and I were out?”

Jen turned to Connor with a smile, noting the bright look on his face. “That’s Sumo. He’s a teddy bear. Papa’s room is this way.”

Carefully, the two of them maneuvered the house and to Hank’s bedroom. Connor plopped the man onto his bed while Jen removed his boots and pin. For a moment, they stood in silence, listening to the old man’s heavy breathing before they exited the room. Closing the door gently, Jen looked to Connor. 

“Go ahead and grab your things,” she started. “Your room will be upstairs, on the other side of that door.”

It wasn’t long before Connor was back with his bag and a suitcase. He travels light for a Marshal, Jen thought as she led him to the spare room at the beginning of the hall. The house wasn’t extravagantly large, but it was comfortable. It had been built to accommodate a large family instead of two people. Jen opened the door to the room, showing the single bed with a desk against the wall. 

“It isn’t much, but at least it is a place to rest,” she said, as if it were an excuse for the state of the room. 

Connor stepped in, setting his luggage onto the bed. “I think it will be just fine,” he reassured with a smile. “This will be fine. Thank you for the offer.”

Jen felt a small blush. “You’re welcome. I am down the hall if you need anything. The outhouse is just out the back door. I’m sure you will find everything just fine.”

Connor nodded with a smile, letting a comfortable yet awkward silence fall between them What happened in that room hung over them like a small cloud. Jen looked from Connor’s gaze, turning her head in the direction of her room. 

“Well, I better get to bed. I have an early morning if there is to be breakfast,” she said softly as she stepped to leave the room.

Connor nodded, giving her a smile. “Yes, you should rest.”

“Good night, Connor.”

“Good night, Jen. Thank you again.”

With that, Jen left, going into her room and closing the door. She leaned against the closed door, smiling proudly to herself at the man she’d met that day. Now, he was a couple doors down and taking her breath away with each smile he flashed her. She thought about his smile, his lips against hers and her skin, those arms around her in such a way that made her skin flush and her heart pound against her chest. Jen knew, deep down, that Connor Dechart wasn’t like other men. Changing into her nightgown, Jen took a glance at the light that was cast on the ground below her. She smiled as she slid into bed, knowing Connor was still awake. It made her wonder what he was doing. Was he thinking about her like she was thinking of him? Perhaps he was unpacking and getting settled. Whatever he was doing, the fact that someone like him was under her roof made her smile and she’d no idea why.


	4. Chapter 4: Markus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus remembers convincing Andi to leave with him the night before Jericho rides into town. A shootout proves that bets have been made and someone is after them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken forever to post this. I have been working long hours and recently found out that my professor is letting me redo a paper he lost. I am slowly working on Connor's next chapter. Anyway, please let me know what you think!

_ “I’ve just met you and I know you’re unhappy. I ain’t the marrying kind, but even I see someone who wants to escape. You’re a servant to whoever is just above you.” Looking to her, he could tell she was on the fence. Little, rich girl was considering his words. She played with the ring that was no doubt given to her when the engagement was accepted whether she wanted it or not, keeping her eyes off him. It flashed against the light of the mansion he was in. “I could give you the freedom you want. The freedom I see fighting in those eyes.” _

_ “You don’t know anything about me,” she insisted yet again, a slight shake in her voice.  _

_ He rolled his eyes and chuckled at the weak response with the shake of his head. His heterochromatic eyes resting on her green-blue ones. He’d never noticed the flecks of sunshine gold in them until right then. Not even when she was getting reassurance that it had to be her that takes out the bullet. The look of her eyes intrigued him; the need of seeing those eyes more rising up in him. He wanted to see what other colors were in his eyes just like he wanted to see what was on her mind. She wasn’t like other rich girls he had on his hip before. _

_ “I know this isn’t what you want,” he said easily. “I know that whatever arrangement this came from isn’t one you want.” _

_ “And how would you know that?” she asked. The challenging look and raised eyebrow made him smirk to himself. She definitely wasn’t like other rich girls. She was much more fascinating. _

_ “Well, you never called for your fiance,” he said as he stepped to her, keeping a hand over his wound as if it were to protect it as it throbbed for just a moment. _

_ “Doesn’t mean anything,” she said as her challenging look faltered. _

_ “Come to think of it, you didn’t reach for a weapon either.” He gave an easy smirk. “I wonder why that is.” _

_ “You were dripping blood onto my floor. I didn’t want to cause a larger mess.” _

_ “You and I both know that is bullshit.” HIs smirk ever present as he watched her look drop into one of ‘go on’ before looking to where she’d taken the bullet out. _

_ She looked to him, seeming to get distracted by the different eyes for a moment. “If it is, it isn’t like  _ you  _ can do anything.” _

_ “I wouldn’t say that,” he said with a smirk. “If you really didn’t want out of here, you wouldn’t be entertaining the thought.” He leaned in close to her ear, taking in the slight vanilla and magnolia scent that came from her. To him, she smelled like home. He whispered against her ear, “A kiss bets that you’ve thought about leaving him, even long before I got here, sweetheart.” _

_ Her cheeks flushed to a beautiful pink against her ivory skin. By the way she had stiffened and she drew a sharp breath in, he knew he was right. He was going to get a kiss from one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. His smirk lingered as he turned back to face her.  _

_ “I’m...engaged,” she stammered. “You can’t kiss me.” _

_ He chuckled outright. She was really being serious! “Oh? From the looks of it, you don’t think your marriage would last anyway. You’d try to kill him before the year was up.” _

_ Her tongue snaked out, wetting her lips. He watched the motion, finding himself drawn to something he knew she shouldn’t want. It wasn’t like she was putting up a fight as to why she couldn’t be close to him. He stood close to her, finding her intoxicating. _

_ “You and I both know that you’re only thinking about what society wants from you. Your life is lived before you had a chance to experience it. You’re comfortable, yes, but you aren’t happy. You haven’t been since, at least, you moved in here. I see it written on your face.” _

_ “I go with you, and I’d run my name through the damn mud. It’s a smart match with Elijah.” She bit her lip, letting it slide against her teeth. The action mesmerised him. “I am not meant for a different sort of life you’re suggesting. I’ve been a first class girl, and will remain like that.” _

_ “Who on earth said you’re not meant for another life? Those blithering, old women that told you how to eat, talk, act properly? I can see the faint scars of disobedience on the backs of your hands from those rulers. You and them bumped heads a lot. Are you sure you’re so different from me?” _

_ Her eyes followed his movements, he knew that look. She stepped to him, keeping her eyes on his, calculating the risks as she pulled him down by the nape of his neck and pressed her lips to his. It caught him off guard just a moment before he rested his hands on her waist, guiding her closer to him. Her fingers rested against his cheek, igniting a sense of lust and passion he hadn’t felt since he first joined Jericho--when he knew he could get away with almost anything and have any woman he wanted. He knew right then, she was going to be the death of him. _

\---

Markus watched her as she slept, waiting for the sign from Jericho that they were in town. Running her fingers against her waves and hues of gold, he smiled. She always looked so peaceful asleep even if she stole his pillow the moment he lifted his head from it. After nearly a year, he still wasn’t used to it. He wasn’t used to the concerned looks she’d give him or the rest of Jericho when they went out to do something risky in the name of changing everything. He sure as hell wasn’t used to someone like her sticking around for as long as she had. He’d thought for sure she’d be in some town away from the likes of his company. 

But there she was. Her golden hair splayed out across her pillow as her head rested and her arms snuggled against his pillow. She wore one of his long shirts, knowing that the rest of their things were still with Simon and Jericho as they traveled in with the wagon. He wasn’t sure when she started this thing of wearing his shirts while they were out alone, but he wasn’t going to be the one to stop it. Gently taking her smaller hand into his, he kissed it, reminding himself he wasn’t allowed to show his true emotions around anyone. Not even her.

That was how weaknesses were made.

Markus knew she’d long since become a weakness of his. He knew it the moment she climbed onto his horse named after the man who had the greatest influence on him for the first time. He knew it when he felt the pangs of jealousy whenever Simon called her princess for riding his horse side-saddle or whenever Stitch or any other man so much as looked at her with any sort of lust in their eyes. There was something about this woman that drew him in and he couldn’t explain it. She was warm and comforting, giving looks of disapproval whenever he or Jericho did something too risky that ended with midnight getaways. These feelings of home always remind him of his time in Lafayette when he was a boy living with some rich artist, his son and his daughter. He hadn’t seen the daughter too much, since he’d sent her away for school, but Carl always made sure that Markus was just as educated as his son, Leo. 

Markus could hear the makings of a fight down below their room. It was hard to ignore with the window open. A possibly drunk man had pissed off another possibly drunk man. The yelling was getting worse as the two tried talking over each other. Markus couldn’t have cared less about what the fight was about, he just wanted to keep Andi asleep for as long as possible. 

“Hmm...Markus…” she groaned, eyes still closed as she stirred just enough to let out a noise of disapproval. “Make it stop.”

Markus breathed out a small chuckle, kissing her forehead before stepping to the window, peering at the two men below. They were drunk as he’d suspected, nearly getting to the point of either a gun fight or a fist fight. Taking out his gun, he leaned against the window pane, ready to fire when able. 

“Jus’ don’ kill ‘em,” she asked of him, snuggling to his pillow more. 

Markus’s eyes glanced to her with a soft, knowing smile as he prepared his gun to fire. He aimed it to just before the fighting duo, and shot. Each of the men yelped in surprise as they jumped back, looking toward where the shot had come from. The room was dark enough that Markus wasn’t seen, but he watched as the men looked toward each other and started walking away, calling each other names as they went.

“Good...boy,” Andi hummed as she slipped back into a deep sleep. 

Markus smiled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed with her again, sliding his gun back into its holster. He never got much sleep when Jericho was moving into town. The anticipation of when they were coming in left him on edge. To him, there wasn’t security for either of them if he and Andi were alone. He tossed most the night when it was the two of them. Eventually, Andi had gotten used to his paranoia, settling to sleep in just a little on those nights--she never slept in when they settled on a camp. 

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when he heard the knock from Simon. He could always tell his knocks; they were soft yet firm much like his voice. Markus waited until the end of the knock to get up, quietly shuffling to the door to not wake Andi. Opening the door, he took in Simon. His expression always seemed caring despite the horrors they’d encountered. However, there was a darkness that swirled in Simon’s blue eyes that Markus knew something happened to him before he joined Jericho, he just couldn’t place it. Markus trusted him with his life, whatever demons Simon had to kill before they met, Markus was more than happy to no talk about if Simon didn’t want to. 

“You all made it, I see,” Markus whispered with an amused smile. 

Simon shot Markus a playful glare, already fed up with the remarks. “ _ You  _ didn’t have to deal with North and Stitch.”

Markus smirked. “You’re right, I didn’t. It was lovely not hearing their late night trysts. I heard a whip, and that was all I needed to hear.”

Simon breathed out a snort, careful not to wake anyone in the inn. “Are you and our princess ready to go?”

Markus peered over his shoulder to Andi’s sleeping form, smiling lightly when he saw that she hadn’t moved. “No, I let her sleep some more. She deserves it.”

Simon nodded, glancing toward the space where Markus looked. Markus knew Simon had befriended Andi, finding comfort in her presence like he had. “Well, I’d get her up. We dropped the wagon off at the hiding place and headed in. You know what we do on the first day.”

“Raise hell,” Markus said with a nod. “I’ll get her up.”

“Will you join us on this one? I hear the mayor is a real son of a bitch to deal with. Favors tyranny over diplomacy.”

Markus nodded with a sigh. “That’s the rumor. We will see how tyrannical he is when he has a pistol aimed at his head.”

Simon widened his eyes. “Markus, you and I both know that you wouldn’t pull the trigger.”

“Maybe so, but I can’t let someone like that stay in charge,” Markus said with finality. He gave Simon’s face a once-over, noting the bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep. “Wait until dawn to start anything and leave the saloons alone. You know the drill.”

“And what will you do, if you don’t give the signal?”

Markus smirked. “I am going to show Andi our new home.”

With a nod, Simon left, careful not to wake anyone as he headed back to Jericho. Markus closed the door as soon as he saw the last of Simon’s head disappear under the stairs. He pressed his back to the wood of the door, watching Andi sleep a moment longer before stepping to her. Letting his fingers slip through her golden locks, he whispered, “Hey, Andi, time to wake up.”

She hummed, letting herself snuggle deeper into the pillow. Markus smiled. 

“Andi, sweetheart, come on. We are going to our new home for now,” he whispered softly, hoping to rouse the sleeping blonde under his fingers. “Don’t you want to see it?”

“Five more minutes,” she grumbled. 

Markus couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled out. Nuzzling his nose against her skin, he pressed light kisses to her neck, running them up her jaw and to her cheeks. He felt her hum as he kissed her face gently, kissing everywhere on her face he could but not her lips. Slowly, a smile crept on her lips and her eyes started to open. Still laced with sleep, she looked to him with a sleepy smile and a loving gaze.

“You keep missing,” she whispered tiredly, still adjusting to the new shift in consciousness.

Markus smiled, keeping his face close to hers. “I was waiting for my sleeping beauty to wake.”

She smiled, closing the space between them for a kiss. Markus returned it happily, sliding his hand into her hair freely. He never got over her kisses and touches or the way she’d look at him. Pulling from the kiss, he smiled to her, looking into her eyes against the shade of darkness. 

“Are you ready to see camp? I think you’ll like it.”

“It isn’t a cave, is it?”

“No, it’s better than that.”

“Oh good,” she said as she sat up and started getting up. 

Markus watched her as she moved around, dressing herself and gathering things to leave wordlessly. There was something about how she moved with a swift silence that made him wonder if she acquired that skill from her time with Jericho, or if she already knew it before he met her in that mansion in Belle Isle. He felt the pang of sadness when Andi tied her hair up and away from her face, hiding the length it truly was for something that society deemed acceptable. 

The new hideout wasn’t too far out of town, along the edge of trees and near the river that flowed near town. It had been an abandoned plantation--or that’s what Simon and Markus seemed to think when they first saw it. There was an old iron fence that gated the front of the house, showing off the once prestigious building that was now slowly being taken over by ivy that creeped its way up the columns of the front of the building. The foundation was still solid if not old looking. Markus figured Andi would have been in homes much like this one; she’d come from a place with a similar structure. Off set to the manor was the stables near the water pump to water horses without taking buckets inside the manor. In the back, along a trail was a shed and a small house. Markus knew they’d been for servants back in the day. Further to the back of the property the remains of a garden and a flower garden just off the back porch of the manor. “Functional yet appealing” was how Simon put it when he saw it. To Markus, it was perfect for Jericho. A true hiding place that was comfortable. 

Markus watched as Andi looked around the manor, talking to herself about how things should be set up, naming areas that would be good for meetings. It was times like these, when they’d squat in old houses, that Andi could see her upbringing come out. Without furniture in the rooms, she knew what they were used for in her experience. Markus chuckled when he watched Andi giggle when she mentioned how there was finally enough room for a table long enough to hold all of Jericho that traveled from town to town. Normally, Jericho would be littered around the house they were in, carefully holding their plates of food. 

When Markus found Andi after getting some of their things off his horse, Carl, she was in the largest room, looking into one of the closets. Her attention solely on whatever she’d found in it. Andi stood proudly, even if her expression was one of curiosity. Setting the items down, he stepped to her. 

“What did you find?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. 

Resting his chin on her head, he saw what she was looking at. It was a cotton dress, one that didn’t need a corset under. It was barely a blue color, possibly faded from time, Markus couldn’t tell. He did know that the dress she was looking at would be long on her, if she were to ever wear it. 

“Now that is a pretty dress.”

Andi nodded, sliding her hands against his; her fingertips mindlessly drifting over his knuckles. Markus intertwined their fingers, taking in the comfort he felt from such a simple act. “It is,” she said softly.

Pressing a kiss to her head, Markus stepped from her, noting how she turned to follow his movements. “I am going to head into town to make sure no one got arrested on the first day,” he said, casting a glance to the items he’d set down on the bed before looking to her. “Will you be okay alone?”

Andi nodded with a reassuring smile. “Of course I will be. I’ll start unpacking and seeing what I can gather for a fire and dinner.”

Markus gave her a concerned look, a pang of guilt vibrating within him. “Maybe I should stay behind. No one will be around if you get hurt.”

Andi smiled, stepping to him, pressing her lips against his cheek. She placed her creamy hand against his cheek, stroking his cheekbone with her thumb. “I will be fine. I always am.”

Markus’s hand rose to hers against his cheek, gently pulling it away and kissing her knuckles. “I won’t be long. I’ll send Simon or Josh ahead to make sure you’re alright. If I’m there, we shouldn’t need too many of us. You can put the rest of Jericho to work as they come back.”

Andi smiled that smile that relaxed Markus. “You better be careful. I hear Sterling has some good gunslingers. Y’all might get hurt.”

Markus chuckled as he shook his head. “If we do, I know of someone who will patch us all up.”

“With a flick to the wound as I do it,” she said with a giggle.

Sharing a chuckle, Markus looked to her, taking in the way the sunlight that peaked in from the windows shined into her eyes and hair. She looked angelic. The gold flecks in her eyes lit up, complimenting the gold of her hair. Gently pushing hair from her eyes, he smiled more, taking in the feeling of how time seems to stop whenever he looked at her. She was brave, mouthy, genuine, sweet, and so much more he couldn’t find the words for. 

“I should get going,” he said softly, the humor of the moment gone the moment his eyes caught her. 

“You haven’t moved yet,” she whispered, keeping the tone between themselves. 

Markus felt a smile tug at his lips. “I blame you,” he said as he moved in for a kiss. 

He hated to admit how much he loved her lips against his or on his skin. It lit his skin on fire with every touch from her. Her kisses had been so shy when she first started kissing him. With the exception of the kiss she surprised him with at that bastard Kamski’s, which was one of determination, near desperation, and fire. Now, they were filled with passion, comfort, and they drew him in more than opium had drawn so many in. He needed her. 

She broke the kiss all too soon. “You need to get on Carl and go before they send a party after you.”

Markus kept the whimper back, but let out the groan that had been bubbling up. “Fine, but you best be waiting for me when I get back.”

Andi smiled. “But of course. With something hot to eat and hopefully the place will be nearly livable.”

Markus smiled to her. Ambitious woman, he thought as he pressed a kiss to her head and started for the door.

Town wasn’t in too much in chaos by the time he’d made it back into town. Some businessmen were thrown into the streets and the gunfire wasn’t nearly as bad as Markus thought it would be. It was in far more control than what Markus had been anticipating. As Markus looked around town, settling his horse not too far into town, he watched as North and Stitch went into a building as Stitch yelled into the sky. Markus shook his head as he watched, heading toward the administrative buildings where the rest of Jericho would probably be around. 

He’s crazy as hell, Markus thought as he heard what he liked to refer to as Stitch’s war cry.

The closer Markus got to the building, the more he heard the gunshots and yelling. He could see Simon and Josh shooting toward an alley, frantically looking for cover. Letting out a deep sigh, Markus drew his gun, heading toward the fighting to give his two men cover to get away. He could feel the hail of bullets as they whizzed around him, getting cover by a building and shooting toward what was shooting at him. Firing his gun a few times, he gained a clear view of what was going on. Josh had a pair of irons on him, one clasped around a wrist and the other flying freely. There was a cut across his cheek, blood oozing from the open gash. Simon, after grabbing Josh and dragging him to the ground as he fired a few shots toward what was shooting at them. 

“Simon! Get Josh out of here!” Markus called as he shot toward the glimpse of a person he saw on the other side of the alleyway. “I got your cover!”

Markus shot toward the shining badge on the one person as he leaned out to shoot toward them. Hearing a the metallic tink of metal on metal, Markus pulled out a few more bullets to hurriedly reload his gun, getting cover from the building. He shot toward the man firing back at him, hoping it would give enough cover to Simon and Josh. Markus had no idea what was really waiting for him until he heard the yelp of pain from Simon as he tripped onto the ground, clutching his shoulder. 

“Josh, get him to safety!” Markus yelled as he fired at the second person in the fight. 

Of course they’d leave me out-manned, Markus thought as he shot toward the two people once again.

As soon as Josh dragged Simon behind Markus, he looked to Markus. “We need to get out of here. They came prepared.”

“It shows,” Markus noted as he turned back to where the shooting was and fired a shot or two, taking the gun that was handed to him to continue the firing. “Who is it?”

“Some US Marshal. Young guy,” Simon said through gritted teeth as he held his shoulder as best he could. “I’ve never seen him before.”

Markus looked toward Simon in surprise. “We need to get out of here; get North and Stitch and go.”

“I agree,” Josh chimed in, hauling Simon to his feet.

“Andi better not be close by,” Simon said as he kept his hand at his shoulder. 

“She’s safe,” Markus assured, firing another shot toward the Marshal and his friend. “She’s back at the hide-out.”

“Great,” Simon said dryly, groaning when he was moved too quick. “Nothing like getting that look from her to make you feel guilty.”

Markus knew that look he was talking about. It was the concerned look that both showed the concern for the well-being for the recipient, but also chastising the recklessness of the actions that led to the injury. He’d gotten it from her the night they met as she stood to shove the rag into his mouth to keep down his screams of pain as she dug the bullet out.

“At least she cares,” Josh added as Markus shot toward the marshal again. 

“Give it up! You’re under arrest!” the marshall called as the firing ceased for just a moment. 

“No, we’re not!” Simon called as they started scurrying toward the edge of town, knowing that the Marshal wouldn’t be too far behind them as soon as he got over the rubble caused by the shootout. 

Shuffling through alleyways and trying to hide the blood trail, Markus and Josh all but carried Simon toward the edge of town, passing the jailhouse as they made their way. They stopped just before they got to their horses, seeing that North and Stitch were already gone; carefully making sure it was safe before they got to their horses. Quickly, Markus reloaded his gun, whistling lowly as a way to call his horse. Carl stepped toward the sound of the whistle, shaking his head bitterly as if it was a trouble to come when he was called. Carefully getting Simon onto him, Markus mounted Carl, taking off as Josh did, each taking a different path toward their hideout. 

“You gonna live, Simon?” Markus asked when the running stopped and Carl forced them to a walk. 

Simon hissed. “If Andi doesn’t kill me, I will.”

Markus chuckled at the thought of his sweet girl killing anyone...aside from the possibility of killing North. “She likes you around too much for that to happen.”

“Oh, good,” Simon said dryly, his sarcasm unfiltered from pain. “Glad to know I am high enough on the list to not die by her hand.”

Markus smiled as he saw the old manor through the trees; a sense of calm washed over him as he saw it. “Nah, she’ll just make your life hell while you heal up.”

“Still better than death,” Simon said with a chuckle before groaning in pain again.

“Yeah, yeah,” Markus said, getting off his horse to get Simon off. “You better hope she’s merciful when she cleans it out.”

Simon gave a weak laugh as he heard the door open and Andi come out. His laugh ended abruptly, taking in that look Markus knew Andi was going to give him. “H-Hey, Andi,” Simon said weakly with a small wave as if it were going to save him. 

“What the fuck happened?” she asked, her eyes wide as she stared at the blood spreading across Simon’s shoulder.

Markus blinked as Simon muttered, “Right to the swearing.” Markus watched as Andi crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for an answer from Simon. “I fucked up is what happened.”

“You’re telling me,” she said as her eyes shifted to Markus, nodding her head toward the door behind her. Her tone became soft and quiet. “Take him inside, put him in the room off the door. I’ll grab the alcohol.”

Markus looked toward Simon, making sure he was ready. An unsettling feeling bloomed in the pit of his stomach as they made their way inside. It was something about how quiet Andi had gotten that made him nearly fearful of the woman. Making his way inside, Markus guided Simon into the room as he was told, seeing Andi in the back of the house gathering the supplies to patch Simon up. Setting him down on a table, Markus looked to Simon. 

“Are you going to need me around while she’s digging that bullet out?”

Simon gave a dark laugh. “And let you watch me weep like a child? No, thank you. I don’t really need someone’s hand to hold. Besides, maybe she’ll be gentle.”

“She’s never that gentle when it comes to wounds like this.”

“I was trying to get Josh out of there,” Simon defended. 

“Tell her that,” Markus said as he heard Andi walk in and set everything down. 

“You couldn’t wait to get shot, huh, Simon?” she asked bitterly as she set everything up and tore his shirt away from the wound. “Be careful! That’s all I asked of you guys!”

Markus smiled, leaning against the wall as Andi ranted, carefully getting the items ready that she’d need immediately. Crossing his arms and ignoring the blood on his clothes, he watched as Andi opened the bottle of moonshine and gave Simon a swig to numb some of the pain. Watching Simon shiver as the alcohol ran down his throat, Markus held back the laugh. 

“In my defense, I was helping Josh not get shot,” Simon weakly added, hoping that the alcohol she was about to pour onto his wound wouldn’t burn nearly as much as he was anticipating. 

“I don’t care! There shouldn’t have been a gun fight in the first place!” Andi pointed back as she rolled up a clean part of his shirt and handed it to him. “Bite this.”

Markus could feel the alcohol in sympathy as Andi poured it onto his wound, making Simon scream out in pain. Bringing a hand to his side, he nearly clutched his old scar from when she helped him. It had long since become a thin, white line, but he could sometimes still feel the lingering pain. At least Simon was getting moonshine, Markus was forced to endure shitty wine fermented by Kamski because he didn’t like the real stuff.

“It’s almost out, Simon,” Andi said softly, forcing Markus from his thoughts and memories. “Just bare with me a moment longer then I can stitch you up.”

Simon’s breathing had gone from barely breathing to labored, letting out whimpers here and there. “Take your time,” he gasped out through pants. 

Markus watched as Andi skillfully dropped the bullet onto the table and started reaching for the thread and needle, dipping it in the alcohol before piercing Simon’s skin. He tilted his head as he watched Andi carefully pet Simon’s hair to comfort the whimpering man before finishing off the stitches. 

Carefully sitting back, she turned to him. “Well, you’ll live,” she said as she looked toward Markus, as if seeing him for the first time since he’d been back.

Simon nodded as Andi started cleaning up. “Thanks, Andi,” he said, carefully sitting up to make himself more comfortable. 

“No problem, just be more careful. I’ve taken more bullets out in the past couple months than I care to,” she said as she stood with the items she used in her hands. She stopped at Markus, giving him a soft look before disappearing deeper into the house. 

Markus stepped to Simon, helping him put a button down shirt on, watching the conflicted look on Simon’s face. 

“She’s worried,” Markus said when that look didn’t go away. 

“She always is,” Simon said quietly as he slowly walked with Markus to a more comfortable place. “Can’t be easy on her.”

Markus nodded as he helped him sit on an old sofa Andi probably moved into a living space. Sitting on a chair near him, Markus watched Simon. “Did you see who the Marshal was?” Markus asked, the glimpse of the man’s face etched into his mind. He knew him from somewhere, but couldn’t tell where. 

Simon shook his head. “No, maybe a glimpse, but not enough for a good look. I think he looked young.”

“You think?”

“With all the bullets flying, I couldn’t get that good of a look,” Simon said, his unfiltered sarcasm still coming in full force. “It wasn’t like he was introducing himself like neighbors would.”

Markus nodded, the image of that man etched into his brain, teasing him with an identity that seemed to escape him. 

\---

“So, what’s the plan now?” North asked, leaning against the wall across from the fireplace. Her arms were crossed with a perpetual look of disapproval. 

“We lie low. Sterling will still be just as corrupt. It will give us enough time for us to gather Intel on what we are dealing with.” Markus’s look remained toward North and Stitch, knowing they were the braver and more reckless of Jericho. Looking across to the group, he took everyone in. Simon was leaned against the corner of a sofa, letting the armrest support his wounded shoulder while Josh sat next to him. Everyone else seemed littered around the room, clinging to his words. Finally, his eyes rested on Andi in the doorway, halfway inside the room. “The more we have on getting this town changed, the easier it will be.”

“What about food and supplies? We are going to starve before we do anything,” Josh said, his tone laced with worry about surviving. “We are a man down.”

“We can hunt for meat. It isn’t that hard. And we have people the Marshal doesn’t know about to get supplies,” Markus countered. 

“We have a  _ person _ , Markus,” North corrected. “The rest of us have wanted posters. With the way our luck has been, she’d give away our position.”

Markus sighed as Andi piped up. “How stupid do you think I am? I’m far more careful about our position than you are.”

“Oh, great, North wants to test patience tonight,” Simon said with an exasperated sigh.

“What about Flint? You  _ knew  _ they were following you. Admit it!”

“Bullshit I did! I’ve been with everyone for about a year; don’t you think that if I were to turn you all in that I would have done it by now?” Andi spat back, venom lacing her words. 

“We should have just left you in Grosse Pointe while we had the chance!” North was face-to-face with Andi by this point, neither woman backing down. “Better yet, leave you along a dirt road with a gun and a single goddamn bullet!”

Markus pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily, before looking to Simon and Josh. After getting Simon’s look of “I’m not breaking up that fight,” Markus groaned, rolling his head to look at the ceiling. Why do they have to fight every time they see each other? 

“Enough!” Markus yelled, causing everything in the room to go rigidly silent. He stepped to the girls, who’d gotten closer to them in the room. Looking to North first then to Andi. He watched as her angry eyes shifted from North to Markus, keeping the storm in them. Markus could swear that he saw the blue and green in her eyes swirl together. “No one is going anywhere.”

Without getting another word out, he walked away, heading to the door to get out of the tense area. Others followed him after a few steps. It was still quiet except for the sound of shoes tapping against the wooden floorboards. He could hear a mutter that sounded like it came from North.

“Alright that’s it!” Andi yelled. 

Just as Markus turned around, he could see a flash of long blonde hair twirl around and her shoes stomp against the floor as she rolled her sleeves up. Before he could grab her, the sound of flesh pounding against flesh echoed throughout the room. Jericho surrounded the two women around Markus as he pushed his way to the front of the circle, seeing Andi and North hitting away at each other.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Stitch said as he pushed some guys away from him, looking for his best method of getting into the fight to break it up. 

Markus and Stitch’s eyes connected for just a moment before each of them dove into the fight. As soon as Markus could feel the fabric of Andi’s dress, he grabbed hold of of it; his hands grasping around her waist as he hoisted her up and over his shoulder. Markus caught a glimpse of Stitch, who had lifted North up by the waist, bringing the woman above the ground.

“Nope,” Stitch said nervously, keeping North in the air where she couldn’t escape. “You can’t kill the princess; that’s a bad idea.”

“The fuck are you doing? Put me the hell down right the fuck now!” Andi yelled angrily as Markus glanced to Simon and Josh, who were exchanging money.

Markus raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes at the look of it, wondering what was going on between Josh and Simon where they were betting. He could feel Andi kicking into the air. “Oh, no, you’re coming with me.”

“Stitch, if you find life amusing, you will let me the hell go,” North warned in a low tone. 

“Nope, Markus is scary when angry!” Stitch countered back. 

Markus sighed as he headed toward their new room, trying his hardest to ignore Andi’s protests and reasons of why North needed the ass beating that Andi was volunteering to give her. He walked into the room, hearing the door slam into the wall behind them. Andi needed to be taught a lesson only he could give. But for now, he needed to see what the hell was going on. Tossing her onto the bed, he looked to Andi, seeing the pissed off storm in her eyes. 

“Stay there,” he said calmly and firmly. He watched as the she tried to suppress the shiver. “I’ll be right back.”

With that he turned around and walked out, slamming the door with a deafening sound that echoed throughout the house. Each step down the steps and toward the rest of Jericho punctuated the anticipation that the entire house felt, wondering what Markus was going to do. Stepping into the room where Simon and Josh were now sitting in, he looked to them. 

“What was that about?”

“We all know Andi and North hate each other.”

“I know that,” Markus said flatly. “I was talking about the two of you.”

Simon gave as best a shrug he could with one shoulder. “We’ve had a betting pool since day one about those two about different things. I bet Andi would have thrown the first punch and I just won ten-dollars.”

Markus didn’t know if he wanted to be proud or fed up with this. Proud in a sense that he was glad Andi knew how to fight, but fed up that he was already sick of the petty bickering between the two strong women. 

“I won five from others because North started it,” Josh said. When he saw Markus peer over the fingers that pinched the bridge of his nose, he added, “There are other things we could have bet on. Just be glad it was semi-innocent. My family’s old masters used to bet on who would starve the fastest.”

Markus let out a sigh. He didn’t know if he wanted to deal with North and Josh arguing over the best approach for something or Andi and North at each other’s throats. Looking to the two of them, with a firm, calm tone, he said, “Finish whatever Andi has simmering over the fire, she’s going to be...busy tonight.”

Before he could hear anything else from the two of them, he walked away. Heading to the stairs he could hear Andi pacing in their room, her shoes still tapping against the floorboards. He let out a heated breath before he climbed the stairs, faintly hearing North and Stitch in another room either arguing. 

Why couldn’t Andi and North just be civil with each other?


	5. Chapter 5: Connor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor starts getting to know more about the Anderson family and attends a rather revealing sermon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry about the late update, I've had the chapter done for like a month, but changes had me busy. Anyway, let me know what you guys think!

Connor couldn’t remember the last time he slept in a house. He couldn’t remember the last time he smelled bacon he wasn’t inadvertently burning due to looking at files about who he was after. Stretching as he sat  on the edge of the bed, he looked around the room. It was simple with a desk and a closed closet door. His journal sat on the desk closed. There was a sense of novelty to the room and he couldn’t place what made him think it. It was like the room was for someone else. 

Dressing and heading down to the kitchen, he heard a bark then a grumble. Hank was at the table, hovered over a cup of coffee, and there was a large, fuzzy mass of fur at his feet. Connor eyed the dog, letting him bark a time or two more as the dog walked up to inspect the intruder he hadn’t seen clearly last night. Connor kneeled, letting him sniff his hand before Connor started running his fingers through the dog’s fur. He was soft, yet showing he was just as large under the fur. Connor was thankful Sumo was accepting of him. 

“That’s Sumo, but you met him last night,” Jen said from the stove as she cooked. “He’s supposed to be the guard dog.”

“The only thing he’s good at guarding is his food,” Hank grumbled as he sipped his coffee. 

“He guards me, Papa,” Jen added as she scooped food onto plates. 

“Only until he gets tired, then he just lays there,” Hank said bitterly.

Connor smiled, looking down to the large dog, noticing the dog had taken a liking to a spot on his pants. He knew what spot it was. It was from when he tried eating bacon and a piece slipped from his fingers and landed on his knee. Now, Sumo looked like he wanted to be friends with Connor for the spot on his pants.

“I don’t know, Papa, looks like he likes Connor just fine,” Jen said as she set the table, turning back to the stove to clean up. 

Hank took a glance at the smaller man. Connor smiled innocently as he kept petting Sumo, trying not to let anyone know that the dog was only interested in the grease stain on his knee. Shaking his head, the old man turned back to his coffee. 

“Where’s he been sleepin’?” Hank asked when his brain had caught up with everything; like it had woke up from its own sleep. 

Jen hesitated, fidgeting with her fingernails and looking to her shoes. Connor raised an eyebrow wondering why Jen was quiet all of a sudden. He sat down looking to the food. “Cole’s room.”

“What the fuck ya lettin’ him use  _ that _ room for?” Hank asked angrily, his voice booming throughout the house.

Connor straightened, wondering who Cole was and why it was a big deal. He glanced to Sumo for answers. Connor knew it was probably wise to look into Sheriff Anderson and his family, but he didn't think it was necessary for the investigation into Jericho and their eventual capture. 

“Because he needed a room, Papa. He don't need but a place to sleep,” Jen countered, a hand on her hip. Connor couldn’t help how his eyes traveled about her body, taking in how she kept a firm stance with a hand on her hip, but a possible wavering resolve about this conversation over why he was sleeping in a room that seemed to belong to someone else.

“It’s still Cole’s room,” Sheriff Anderson grumbled over his cup of coffee, taking a long sip. 

The residual tension in the air made Connor go rigid with the feeling. Jen had turned from her father with a bite of her lip and Hank looked as if he wished the coffee had some whiskey in it. Connor sat at the table, his hand lingering in Sumo’s fur. 

“I apologize if I seem too forward, but may I ask a personal question?”

Hank glanced from his coffee responding with a “no” just as Jen was saying “yes.” After giving a narrowed look to the older man, Jen looked to Connor with a smile. “Go ahead, Connor. What is it?”

“Who is Cole?”

A deafening silence took over the air and Sumo whimpered, lowering his head as if remembering who Cole was. Jen’s eyes were cast toward her feet, fingers fidgeting with each other. Hank’s normally somber expression grew darker. Connor looked between the two, wondering if he’d overstepped.

“He was…” Jen started, her voice cracking in the slightest, looking to her father for support. “He was…”

“He was my son, her younger brother.” Hank’s gruff voice startled him though he never moved from staring into his mug of coffee.

_ Was _ . The word vibrated through his system, sending shockwaves with realization that he was in the room that once belonged to a member of the family. Considering how painful it must be to think about, Connor had a feeling that Cole just didn’t runaway or was never heard from again. Given the lack of momentos in the house that resembled that a boy had lived here, Connor could only guess that Cole was dead.

Connor looked to both Hank and Jen before a soft, “I’m sorry” escaped his lips. It was soft and he was sure they couldn’t hear him. He knew there was no amount of apologies or condolences that would bring someone back. There was a thought at the back of Connor’s mind that wondered how old Cole was when he died, but he didn’t dare ask.

 

\----

 

Connor sat there with the rest of the town, listening. He wasn’t so much paying attention as he was just listening to the preacher. He could hear the bellows of the preacher as he talked about God’s love and the sins of man. He’d heard similar sermons in different towns, finding comfort in church because it made him feel normal. Like he wasn’t a US Marshall that traveled from town to town on different assignments. Being in a church, made him feel like he was part of a community instead of an observer watching from the sidelines. 

He felt Jen shift next to him, her body turning as she looked around the church. Giving her a look, he wondered what she was looking for. She looked intrigued with someone that was seated in the back pews, close to the door. He raised an eyebrow as he watched her shudder with silent laughter. 

He leaned to her. “What are you doing?” 

Jen turned back forward, leaning to him, whispering, “Saying hello to an old friend.”

“Don’t you see them regularly?”

“I used to,” Jen whispered, a solemn tone hinted in her voice. “Then she had to leave.”

Connor gave her a confused look, wondering who “she” was momentarily. He was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of the preacher’s booming voice, forcing his attention from what Jen had said to what the preacher was now talking about. Connor felt himself straighten, as if what the preacher was saying was meant for him even if the words were coming to him muffled in his ears.

The sermon ended when the sun was high in the sky and the heat beat into the church with fervor. Connor stood, stretching out the sore muscles that came from sitting in a wooden bench for an hour. When he looked toward Jen, she’d disappeared. Frantically, he looked around for the woman, wondering what caught her attention so much that she didn’t say anything to him before leaving. He walked outside, finding her outside with another woman. She was a blonde with the caring look and a smile that shined bright for someone she hadn’t seen in a while. Connor had a feeling he’d seen this blonde before, but he couldn’t figure it out. She looked pretty, but it wasn’t what stuck out to him. Nor was it the necklace she wore or the clothes. But it was something. 

“You should have told me you were heading here!” Jen playfully scolded the blonde, still holding her close.

The blonde girl smiled, her expression warm but her eyes lit up. “There was no time, and I know you wouldn’t approve of my escort into town.”

“Like you couldn’t send me a letter?”

“I didn’t think you’d still be here. Besides, you would have rolled out the welcome wagon for me, and you know I don’t like it,” the mysterious girl said with a shake of her head, the smile never wavering. 

Jen nodded. “True, the only princess I could think of that would rather be invisible.”

The girl giggled. “I am not a princess. I used to hide under your bed so I wouldn’t have to leave.”

“Which would have worked if you didn’t sneeze.”

“It was a little dusty under there from Sumo,” the girl defended, a hand on her hip and a shake of her head. 

“Oh you know that’s a lie,” Jen said before scanning her friend. “How long are you in town?” 

She bit her lip, thinking a moment before saying, “I don’t really know. Whenever I feel the need to leave.”

Connor noticed how she chose her words wisely, careful not to say too much that would give away her position. Connor felt the gentle raise of his eyebrow, confused at who this girl was to Jen, and how they were related. Jen said something about knowing Andrea Manfred, but this girl couldn’t be her. There was something about her he couldn’t place. The Andrea he heard about seemed lively but conservative. This girl in front of him seemed lively, brave and something he couldn’t quite place. Was it something like freedom? 

“So, do you have to go back to wherever you’re staying right away?” Jen asked timidly, looking to her friend. Her fingers fidgeted with her dress, something she did when she wanted something but didn’t want to risk pushing it.

Connor watched the look on her face, the press of the blonde’s lips as she looked to her friend. “I better get going back. I don’t want who I am traveling with to worry,” she said softly. “They were apprehensive about me coming to church.”

Jen pulled the blonde into a hug. “Well, come over and see Papa sometime. He would love a visit,” she said. “Maybe come over for dinner if they will let you.”

The blonde returned the hug happily. “I will. I promise. I try to go into town a couple times a week.”

“Good, I need to see you more,” Jen said before whispering something in the ear of the blonde that Connor couldn’t catch. 

Before Connor knew it, the girl was mounting a horse Connor swore he’d seen before and taking off. Looking to Jen confused, she nearly spoke his thoughts, answering almost every question in a single answer. 

“She used to come around during the summers until she was whisked to finishing school. We kept in touch for the most part,” Jen said with a smile. “I didn’t think she’d come back after a while.”

Connor nodded. “What’s her name?”

“She goes by Andi,” Jen said easily. 

\----

_ This town surprises me more and more every day. It’s a large town, nearly a city, but so close knit. Everyone knows everyone. It’s amazing to think criminals could be here. Especially with a watchful eye like the Anderson’s. Hard to believe they have a deputy recovering from a wound Jericho caused. Jen seems to know almost a little more than Sheriff Anderson. However, I fear there is more to Cole Anderson’s presence as well as this friend of Jen’s: Andi. Jen seems to know more than she is letting on about the town, her friend, and Jericho. Perhaps I can learn more by being around her.  _


	6. Chapter 6: Andi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After seeing Andi distracted, Simon and Andi have a little chat about how they found Jericho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the inadvertent hiatus. It's been weird between new jobs and applying for others. Anyway. This should probably come with a slight warning. It mentions death and murder. It isn't too gruesome but I don't want to post it without giving people a warning. As always give me some feedback and tell me what you think! I am always interested to know even if it is incoherent!

Andi always wondered what people thought happened to her since she took off with Markus. The thoughts always lingered in the back of her mind as she returned from town with supplies. Laying low for Jericho meant they couldn’t go anywhere but deeper into the woods, to hunt and fish, and laying around drinking. It also meant that North was bored out of her mind when she wasn’t in hers and Stitch’s bedroom. By the time she reached the house they were squatting in, Andi didn’t realize how far her thoughts had taken her or how long she’d been thinking. She never used to be one for staring into space, but, as of late, she couldn’t help it. She hardly realized that members of Jericho had unloaded the cart she used and that Simon was calling her name.

“Andi,” Simon said softly, concern lacing his voice. “Are you okay?”

Andi shook her head slightly, shaking away her thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Do you need to lay down? You’ve been out all day,” Simon offered. 

Andi shook her head, refocusing her thoughts. “No,” she said as she walked inside with him. “I’m fine.”

Although Simon didn’t look convinced, he dropped it as he walked inside with her. Andi appreciated Simon and his knack for knowing when wasn’t the right time to talk, letting her speak at her own pace. Despite the small jabs about her being a princess, she liked his company, seeing why Markus confided in him as much as she did. Sitting at the table, she watched as Simon went to cleaning parts of the gun on the table, something he must’ve been doing while she was out. 

“Where’s Markus?” she asked softly, as if her voice would be enough for him to lose focus on what he was doing. 

“Hunting? I think,” Simon answered as he continued his work. “North and Stitch went with him. Josh went with some others fishing, I think. I wasn’t paying attention after North made her comment about shooting something.”

“Well, she does have an insatiable thirst for blood,” Andi said easily, fingers playing at the rim of the lid to the cleaner Simon was using. 

Simon chuckled looking to her, his blue eyes light for once. “She has an insatiable thirst for violence,” Simon corrected as if there were a difference for the fiery woman. “I don’t know how Markus does it.”

Andi chuckled, wondering the same multiple times herself over the time she’d been with Markus and Jericho. “But how do you deal with it?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do you deal with North?”

“Carefully,” Simon said as he resumed his work. “Now it’s making bets and, normally, winning.”

“What do you bet on?”

“You really want to know?” Simon asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. 

“Yes,” Andi answered, nearly scared of the answer he would give.

“The last bet was on who would throw the first punch, you or her.” Simon laughed when he watched Andi’s face drop in surprise. “Well, Josh and a bunch others were in on that one too. It was bound to happen. For the record, I won ten dollars because you threw the first punch.”

Andi laughed coldly, shaking her head at the revelation. “I’m glad I earned you money, Simon. You did have to endure me stitching you up.”

“It wasn’t all that bad. Could have been worse,” Simon said softly as if hinting he’d been through worse. “I was in worse than some bullet to the shoulder, and that was a pain to get out.”

Andi nodded, looking at the blonde man. Maybe in some other life she’d have been paired with someone like him. He wasn’t like the others of Jericho. The others seemed to have come from bad situations, with the exception of Markus and Josh. But Simon had a sense of sophistication to him that she only saw in men in second and first class. He was quiet about where he came from, but Andi couldn’t mistake his manners hinted at a life he had that was similar to the life she came from. 

“You look like you have something on your mind, princess,” Simon said as he gathered the various pieces he had on the table. 

“I do, but I don’t know if you want to tell me,” she said carefully, giving him a warning it was personal.

“What is it?” he asked anyway.

“Where did you come from? You aren’t like Stitch or North. I know you’re educated and literate, but you’re among Jericho. I apologize if it seems forward, but you don’t look like you belong among Jericho.” She paused before adding, “Not that Markus are Josh seem like they belong with a group of outlaws.”

Simon sighed as he set down what he was holding. “I came from a town east of here.” He looked to her, making Andi feel his eyes scanning her. “You’re right, I am educated. Made it to parts of university, if you could believe it.”

“What happened?” Her voice was timid, something she did when she felt it wasn’t her place to know but curiosity got the best of her. “You don’t have to answer if it is out of place.”

Simon shook his head, getting up for the kettle on the stove and pouring two cups before sitting back down with the cups. He handed one of them to Andi, looking into his own before he started. “Well, I was in Lansing when I met her. We fell in love and she followed me to where I was studying. She was so beautiful, smart, funny; sometimes you remind me of her. Her father was a businessman that had taken me under his wing, showing me what it was like to invest money and turn a skill into profit. I was a foreman in a mill under him. I made great money, was on my way to making a good life for her.”

“Her father must’ve liked you if he took you under his wing,” Andi said, listening intently, knowing her father would be the type to take in anyone with potential off the street and show them a new life outside what they had.

“He tolerated me and only invested in me because his daughter and I were in love,” Simon corrected. “He just waited for her to get sick of me before he would get rid of me. Until then, he pretended to get me into his business. It was a great cover, but I knew better. Her father always told me that she was too good for me, and, for a while, I believed it. Those parties I used to go to with her were that man’s attempt in showing me what her life should be without me in the picture. Most of those men had near empires in businesses, while I was just a foreman in under her father. Embarrassing to say the least.’

“Needless to say, I was surprised to get his blessing to marry her,” Simon said, his blue eyes dark and stormy. “I proposed to her at this flower parade. It wasn’t really a parade, more like a gathering of the rich and powerful in the area. I’m sure you’ve been to your share of such parties. She said yes, and I was the happiest man to walk God’s earth. I really was. I even had plans to take over one of her father’s printing presses; after having gotten myself out of the mill. Things were falling in place for once.”

Andi furrowed her eyebrows, having a feeling that it wasn’t happening for long. Her finger anxiously tracing the gentle rim of the coffee cup. 

“I don’t have family,” Simon explained. “So it was a constant struggle to find my place in this world. I found it with her. We were happy. We had a house that I bought. She was planning the wedding and who was going to be there. I was working and saving money for everything I wanted to do with her.” His voice hinted at the hopefulness of finding a place where he belonged. It made Andi smile, but it fell as soon as Simon’s voice turned somber as he remembered what happened. “I should have known it wasn’t going to last,” he said with a gentle shake of his head. “I was running late from the printing shop and heard gunshots, but I didn’t think anything of it. Hearing gunshots wasn’t uncommon, especially if it was at the saloon. Mainly used to catch people’s attention. I’m sure you’ve seen it with your travels with us.” Simon’s hands trembled as he went on, seeming like he was talking to get through it, forgoing the memory of it all. “I realized it wasn’t the saloon when I got home. I’ll never forget the sight or the smell. I can still smell the burnt smell from a freshly fired gun and the smell of copper. Every time I close my eyes, I see her covered in crimson, with a pool of scarlet around her like it were a bed of fucking roses. Those shots I heard at the press was from our home and she was dead. I could hear the police running toward our house, and there I was, clutching her body. They arrested me, but never found the gun. I hated carrying guns, but her father loved them. I sat in jail for less than an hour before her father came walking into the jail, finding me sitting against the wall.” Simon sniffed back tears as he went on, his voice trembling to the point of breaking. Andi placed a comforting hand on his, rubbing the back of it with her thumb. “He confessed everything to me. He said he’d rather see his daughter dead than with someone like me, who grew up dirt poor. Not that the police would believe me if I told them. Zlatko was powerful enough to pay off every police officer and judge who would take my case and make sure I was found guilty..”

“Oh, Simon,” Andi said quietly enough to give comfort and to let him continue if he wanted. 

“I’d have been hanged if it weren’t for Markus being in town,” Simon said carefully, raising his eyes to look at her eyes. Tears glossed over the stormy blue irises. Tears glistened against his pale cheeks. “He actually visited me to see for himself if I was a murderer. I don’t know what he saw in me, but he paid someone to get me out. I was a wanted man, but I was alive...even if I am in exile.”

Andi wiped tears from her eyes, trying to hold them back as best she could. Her heart broke for the man she considered a close friend. Before she could register what she was doing, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as if it were a comfort for the past he’d been dealt. 

“You have a family with us, Simon,” she whispered into his shoulder as she held him.  

“I know,” he said with a shaky breath. “Jericho is my family now.”

Andi pulled from him before other members saw and had the wrong idea. She helped wipe his tears, finding his hands a little too dirty for the task. 

“Markus is the only one that knows the whole story.”

Andi nodded. “I understand. Simon, this will stay with me. I promise.”

Simon nodded, his eyes searching hers for a moment, before he turned back to what he had been doing. The kitchen was quiet for a moment, the sound of metal on metal carefully filling the air. 

“What about you? Where did you come from?” Simon’s shaky voice trembled in the room, looking for any excuse to get his mind off what he’d been through.

“You know where I came from,” she said carefully, her tone more light than what it had been. 

“Not all the way,” Simon countered, a slight sniffle to his tone. “I know you’re a princess who went to a finishing school and rides horses side-saddle but that’s about it.”

Andi smiled looking to her cooled coffee that she’d grown disinterested in. “I grew up in Lafayette. My mother died during childbirth, so I never knew her. My brother, Leo, resented me for it, even if it wasn’t my fault. The Lord took her when he wanted, but he didn’t care. My father is a wealthy artist; you’ve probably seen his work around. He was the type of father that supported whatever we did. If I wanted to learn to paint, I learned to paint. If I wanted to play in the mud, by golly, I played in the mud. It wasn’t without discipline, but we were free to do whatever we felt. I guess it came from having money, looking back. Dad is a kind man. He’d take someone off the street and feed them and clothe them if he saw potential and wouldn’t let them go until they learned a skill they could use. Before I left for finishing school, he’d taken in this boy, a little older than me but younger than Leo. I can’t remember his name for the life of me, but Dad saw something in this boy. Something he couldn’t place. He wasn’t like the others he’d brought home like a stray pet.”

Andi watched Simon smile in spite of himself. “Your father sounds like a great man. I wish I met him before I knew Zlatko and my fiance. Maybe he would have vouched for me.”

“He would have without a second thought,” Andi said. “He always believed in the good in humanity, even if people like your fiance's father ruin it for most.”

Simon smiled. “So, how did you meet someone like…” his voice trailed off wondering if it was alright for him to bring up her ex-fiance given that if Markus heard, his jealousy would rear its head. 

“Like Elijah Kamski?” Andi asked, no fear in her voice. Simon nodded, making Andi shake her head. “He met me at some gala both of us were at while I was home from school. I guess I left a big enough impression on him for him to ask for my hand from my father before I came home. Part of me was hoping that boy Dad had taken in was still home when I returned, instead, I was greeted with the most powerful man in Belle Isle and the surrounding area.”

“What happened to that boy?”

“I never learned. I didn’t have much time home before Elijah whisked me away to his house to lock me up like a trophy catch in some cage.”

“It was a pretty cage,” Simon agreed with a raise of an eyebrow and a nod of his head. “I saw it from the outside when Markus went to get you.”

Andi nodded. “I hated it there, even worse than I hated finishing school. Dad sent me at the recommendation of some women of the society. They saw me as too free-spirited to ever find a husband, and if he wanted people to buy his art to keep food on the table, I had to be taught. I didn’t know they told him that. I was here, in Sterling, with a childhood friend.”

“Sounds like your father was reluctant to send you away,” Simon said as he put the gun back together. 

“He was,” she admitted. “Part of me has this feeling he regrets it, but I never got the chance to ask him.”

“Where does he think you are, Andi?”

Andi pressed her lips together, her eyes casting toward her lap. “Missing just like the rest of the country does. I never had the chance within the year I’ve been with Jericho to tell him I’m okay or that I’m alive. I probably should. I miss him the most.”

“Your friend, is she from here?”

“I suppose you could say that,” Andi started. “She was born in Lafayette, but her father was offered the sheriff position here in Sterling, so her and her parents left. It was before Cole was born. I hardly knew him before he died.”

The pause hung in the air, leaving the two of them thinking about their pasts and their time with Jericho. Andi’s nail tapped the side of the cup gently as she looked around. “I should get my apron and find something to scrounge for dinner. I don’t know when everyone will be back, but something tells me they will be hungry.”

Simon nodded, watching the blonde stand. “Take the night off. I got it. Markus would kill me anyway for working you after you brought back more supplies. I’ll holler when it’s ready or if Markus comes home.”

Andi blinked, processing what he said. “You sure? I don’t mind cooking for the small army that is Jericho.”

“I’m certain. You’ve had a long day, go relax,” Simon said as he stood to push her out of the kitchen. 

“Fine, I’ll be in my room if you need help. Just holler for me,” she said as she stepped out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.

Andi headed to the stairs, hearing some members of Jericho come back with Josh from fishing. She was thankful for the time with Simon, learning about him made it seem like she was closer to him. She vaguely remembered reading about his fiance’s murder, remembering that the newspapers weren’t even sure if he’d done it. But she didn’t think someone like Simon was capable of murder, even now. As soon as she got to her room, she closed the door, pressing her back to it. Her eyes scanned the room, seeing the made bed that her and Markus shared, the trunk at the end of the bed that housed near everything that wasn’t clothes or shoes. Her lockbox was in it along with some other precious items she’d collected in her travels. Andi’s eyes rested at the desk that held information from nearby farms and other businesses of interest to Markus. 

Stepping to the desk, she sat at it, looking for the pen and some paper. After making sure the paper didn’t have anything written, she stared at the blank sheet before writing:

_ Father, _

She tapped her fingers against the edge of the desk while she thought about what to write to her father. She’d hadn’t spoken to him since before Markus rode into Belle Isle. What did she want to tell him? That she was okay and not to worry about her? That she’s riding with Jericho, but not to fret because she was being taken care of? What really happened when she left Elijah for Markus? Before she knew it, she was writing, letting her hand say whatever it wanted. 

_ I hope this letter finds you in good health. I know it has been about a year since I’ve last written. I never got your last letter, and I’m not sure if Elijah would have the sense to send it back. As you’re probably aware, I’m no longer staying with him. I left the day Markus Carlson and Jericho rode into town. Elijah has the ring he gave me for our engagement, I broke it off. I left with Markus and Jericho; I wasn’t kidnapped like Elijah would like the world to believe. I’ve traveled with them since they rode into Belle Isle.  _

_ Before you freak out, I’m fine. Markus treats me like a princess, properly, and I’m happy with him. Even some of the men call me princess for the way I ride a horse. I don’t know what Elijah has said about what’s happened, and I want to make it right. I wish to visit soon, maybe you’ll get to meet Markus someday. I think you’d like him, Dad. He’s more human than those we used to go to parties with. He lets me figure out who I want to be. _

_ I hope Leo isn’t being too much of a pain. I love you.  _

_ Until next time, A _

Andi reread her words on the paper, hoping it explained enough to ease any worry he may of had. Biting her lip, she put the pen away, folding the paper and putting it in an envelope, addressing it to her father. She didn’t realize Markus was home until she felt his arms wrap around her and a kiss get pressed into her shoulder. 

“How long have you been up here?” he asked softly as if the words were meant just between them

“Not sure,” she whispered back. “I came up here when Simon kicked me out of the kitchen.”

Markus chuckled softly, his breath tickling the skin on her neck and drifting up to her ear. The sound made her smile as she turned to him suppressing the shiver of pleasure of having him so close. 

“How long have you been home?”

“A while,” he answered. “Simon tried calling for you.”

“Oh,” she said with a soft tone, her eyes tearing themselves from his to the envelope on the desk. “I guess I didn’t hear him.”

“It’s fine,” Markus said as he looked to the envelope. “Who is that for?”

“My father. I think that I should probably check in with him. I haven’t since I left, and I’m sure he’s wondering if I’m alive,” Andi said with a glance to the sealed envelope. 

Markus nodded, reading the name scrolled in ink, as he kept his arms around her. “Carl Manfred? The artist?”

Andi beamed. “Yeah, that’s my father. I hope he’s still in Lafayette.”

Andi pretended not to notice the way Markus stiffened at the name or how his strong hand that was wrapped around her side tightened. She pushed it to the back of her mind when he pressed a kiss to her head. “I’m sure he still is,” he said, his voice a little tighter than usual.


End file.
